Why Am I Talking? When One Voice Fills the Room

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Every organization has at least one. The person who arrives at a meeting with genuinely good ideas, who cares about getting things right, and who, without quite meaning to, ends up talking for most of the hour. They are not malicious. Sometimes they are among the most capable people in the room. But the effect on everyone else is the same regardless of intent: less room to think out loud, less room to disagree, and eventually, less reason to show up at all.

I have experienced this dynamic frequently over the years, in library and institutional leadership meetings, in cross-functional committees, and in my own moments of catching myself talking longer than the topic warranted. The research on this is fairly consistent. Leigh Plunkett Tost and colleagues at the University of Michigan, Harvard, and Duke found that when people in formal positions of authority talk a great deal in a group, the rest of the team perceives them as dominating the conversation, and group performance suffers as a result (Tost et al., as reported by the Association for Psychological Science, 2013). Interestingly, the same talkativeness from someone without formal authority does not produce the same effect, because peers naturally push back. Authority changes the physics of the room. When the dominant voice also has positional power, silence from everyone else is not agreement. It is often just the path of least resistance.

That is the real cost of meeting dominance. It is not simply that other people get less airtime. Good ideas quietly stop arriving. Someone who has tried twice to add a thought and been talked over will, on the third occasion, decide it is not worth the effort. Given the choice, they may stop attending altogether, or attend and mentally check out, contributing nothing and absorbing little. The organization loses access to perspectives it needs, and it often does not notice the loss, because withdrawal is quiet. Nobody files a complaint about being talked over. They just go quiet, or they stop coming.

What colleagues in the room can do

If you are not the one running the meeting, interrupting a colleague, especially a senior one, can feel risky. It does not have to be confrontational. A few approaches that tend to work well:

  • Use a bridging phrase rather than a correction. Something like, “That’s a helpful point, and I want to build on it,” or “Picking up on what you just said,” lets you take the floor without implying the other person overstepped.
  • Redirect toward someone else by name. “I’d like to hear what Maria thinks about this before we move on” does two things at once: it interrupts gracefully, and it signals to the quieter person that their input is expected, not just welcome.
  • Use time and structure as cover. “We have about ten minutes left and three more items, so let me pause here and come back to you if there’s time,” relies on the clock rather than on judgment, which makes it easier to say and easier to hear.
  • Ask a direct, narrow question. Open-ended interruptions can turn into another monologue. A specific question, such as “What would that look like for the timeline we discussed last week?”, tends to produce a shorter, more focused answer.
  • If it is a recurring pattern, raise it outside the meeting. A private, low-stakes conversation, framed around shared goals rather than personal criticism, is usually more effective than trying to manage the dynamic live, in front of the group.

None of these require confrontation. They require a plan, and a willingness to use it more than once, since one polite interruption rarely changes an ingrained habit.

What the person who dominates meetings can do

Most people who talk too much in meetings are not trying to crowd anyone out. They are enthusiastic, thinking out loud, or they have simply never received reliable feedback that the pattern exists. A few practices can help build that self-awareness.

The simplest is WAIT, an acronym for “Why Am I Talking?” Before adding a comment, especially a second or third one on the same topic, the question forces a brief pause: does this genuinely move the conversation forward, or am I filling space because I am comfortable filling space? Jo Ilfeld describes WAIT as a way to keep contributions purposeful and stay aware of how much room one takes up relative to others (Ilfeld, 2024). It is a small habit, but it works because it interrupts the impulse before the words do.

A few other practices pair well with it. Counting contributions, literally noticing how many times you have spoken versus how many times a colleague has, can be a useful gut check. Deliberately asking a question and then waiting through the silence, rather than filling it, gives others room to respond; the instinct to rescue an awkward pause is exactly what you need to resist. And after a meeting, it is worth asking a trusted colleague directly: did I leave enough space today? Most people will not volunteer that feedback unprompted, but they will usually answer honestly if asked.

None of this is about talking less for its own sake. It is about making sure the room reflects the thinking of everyone in it, not just the person most comfortable speaking first and longest. Good ideas do not sort themselves by seniority or confidence. They show up in people who need an actual opening to say them out loud. Creating that opening, whether you are the one who talks too much or the one trying to get a word in, is a small act with an outsized effect on whether a team functions as a team at all.

Further reading

Association for Psychological Science. (2013, November 26). Beware the long-winded leader. https://www.psychologicalscience.org/news/minds-business/beware-the-long-winded-leader.html

Ilfeld, J. (2024, October 16). Why am I talking? Using WAIT to improve meetings. Incite to Leadership. https://www.incitetoleadership.com/why-am-i-talking-using-wait-to-improve-meetings/

Monarth, H. (2021, June 23). How to manage interruptions in meetings. Harvard Business Review. https://hbr.org/2021/06/how-to-manage-interruptions-in-meetings

Shapira, A. (2019, April 2). How to speak up in a meeting, and when to hold back. Harvard Business Review. https://hbr.org/2019/04/how-to-speak-up-in-a-meeting-and-when-to-hold-back


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The Question Nobody Answered: When Managers Can’t Deliver Bad News

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We’ve written before about poor communication in the hiring process, about building trust through two-way organizational communication, and about the hidden costs of dismissive communication. Each of those posts circled a related but distinct problem. This one goes to the heart of it: what happens when a staff member asks a direct question, one that would resolve real uncertainty, and the manager simply will not answer it.

Not “won’t answer it clearly.” Won’t answer it at all.

The Question That Hangs in the Air

Picture the scene. A project has stalled. A promised promotion hasn’t materialized. A reorganization is clearly coming, but no one has said so. A staff member, tired of guessing, finally asks the manager directly: “Is this project being canceled?” “Am I getting that raise?” “Is my position being eliminated?”

The honest answer might be difficult. It might be “yes.” It might be “not yet, and I don’t know when.” But it is knowable, and the manager knows it. Instead of answering, the manager changes the subject, offers a vague reassurance, promises to “circle back,” or simply goes quiet. The staff member leaves the conversation with the exact same uncertainty they walked in with, except now they also know that asking directly doesn’t work either.

This is a different failure than the silence I described in the hiring context, and different again from the condescension I wrote about in dismissive communication. This is a manager who has been handed the one thing that would resolve the problem, a direct question, and has chosen (or felt unable) to answer it honestly.

Why Managers Avoid the Answer

Most managers who dodge these questions are not cruel. They are, more often, afraid. Afraid of the reaction. Afraid of being blamed for a decision they didn’t make, or afraid of owning one they did. Afraid that saying the hard thing out loud makes it more real, more permanent, more theirs to answer for. Some hope the situation will resolve itself before they have to say anything. Some were simply never taught how to deliver bad news and freeze when the moment arrives.

None of this makes the avoidance acceptable. But it is worth naming honestly, because managers who understand why they’re avoiding the conversation are in a much better position to stop avoiding it.

The Trust Cost of Silence

When a manager dodges a direct question, the staff member doesn’t conclude “my manager is protecting me.” They conclude one of two things, and both are corrosive.

The first is that the manager is being dishonest and deliberately withholding information. The second, often worse, is that the manager doesn’t actually know the answer, or lacks the authority or competence to get one. Either conclusion damages trust. And unlike a single instance of bad news delivered badly, this pattern tends to compound. Every dodged question becomes evidence for the next one. Eventually, staff stops asking directly at all, not because the question resolved itself, but because they’ve learned the manager cannot be relied upon to answer it. That is a much harder trust deficit to repair than the discomfort of one honest conversation would have been.

It Comes with the Territory

Delivering bad news is never easy. It wasn’t easy for me, and I doubt it is easy for anyone who takes their responsibility to their staff seriously. But that discomfort comes with the job. Managing people means, eventually, telling someone something they don’t want to hear: that the position was eliminated, that the answer is no, that the timeline slipped, that the project failed. Avoiding that responsibility doesn’t make the manager kind. It makes the manager unavailable at the exact moment their staff needed them most.

It is also, simply, human. Nobody enjoys watching someone’s face fall. Nobody wants to be the reason a colleague has a hard day. That instinct to avoid inflicting pain is not a character flaw; it’s part of being a decent person. The failure isn’t in feeling that reluctance. The failure lies in letting reluctance win, especially when a direct question has already been asked, and an honest answer is sitting right there.

What Better Looks Like

None of this means bad news needs to be delivered badly. A few practices can help managers meet the moment rather than avoid it.

Answer the question that was actually asked. If someone asks “Is my position being eliminated?” answer that question, not an adjacent one. Redirecting to a related but easier topic is still avoidance, just better disguised.

Prepare before the conversation happens. If a difficult question is foreseeable, and most are, think through what you will say before you’re asked. Managers who improvise bad news in the moment tend to soften it into meaninglessness or blurt it out clumsily. A few minutes of preparation prevents both.

Lead with the headline. Don’t bury the answer under ten minutes of context. Say the hard thing early, then explain. Staff can handle difficult news far better than they can handle watching a manager circle it for five minutes before landing.

Own the decision, even one you didn’t make. “That wasn’t my call” is rarely as reassuring to the listener as the manager hopes. If you’re the one delivering the news, deliver it as someone accountable for making sure the person understood it and was treated with respect, whether or not you controlled the underlying decision.

Give a next step, even a small one. Bad news lands better when it isn’t the end of the conversation. “Here’s what happens next” or “here’s what I can do to help” gives the person something to hold onto besides the disappointment itself.

Practice the hard conversations with someone you trust. Rehearsing what you’ll say out loud with a peer or mentor makes an enormous difference in how the real conversation goes. This isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s preparation for one of the harder parts of the job.

Follow up. A single difficult conversation, however well delivered, rarely closes the loop entirely. Check back in. Ask if there are lingering questions. This signals that the conversation mattered, not just that it happened.

Closing Thought

A manager who cannot deliver bad news isn’t protecting their staff from discomfort. They’re transferring the discomfort of uncertainty onto the very people who asked, in good faith, for clarity. Staff generally don’t expect their manager to have good news all the time. They do expect honesty, especially when they’ve asked for it directly. Managers who can consistently provide that, even when the news is hard, build the kind of trust that survives the next hard conversation too.

Suggested Readings

Patterson, K, & Grenny, J. (2013). Crucial accountability: Tools for resolving violated expectations, broken commitments, and bad behavior (2nd ed.). McGraw-Hill.

Scott, K. (2019). Radical candor: Be a kick-ass boss without losing your humanity. St. Martin’s Press.

Scott, S. (2004). Fierce conversations: Achieving success at work and in life, one conversation at a time. Berkley.

Stone, D., Patton, B., & Heen, S. (2023). Difficult conversations: How to discuss what matters most. Penguin Books.

David, S. (2016). Emotional agility: Get unstuck, embrace change, and thrive in work and life. Avery.


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The Permission to Stop (or at Least to Do Things Differently): Leading Libraries Through VUCA

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I recently attended the ACRL President’s Program at the American Library Association Annual Conference. The session was titled “Leading Academic Libraries through VUCA in Higher Education,” and it left me thinking about a few things that have been lingering with me for a while. VUCA, for those unfamiliar with the framework, stands for Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity. It originated in military strategy and has since found a comfortable home in leadership discourse, particularly in sectors like higher education that are experiencing simultaneous, seismic disruption on multiple fronts.

The panelists, who represented R1 university libraries and a liberal arts college library, were candid, thoughtful, and helpful. They spoke about budget pressures, the shifting political landscape, the erosion of public trust in higher education, and the relentless pace of technological change. Throughout the discussion, the topic that stayed with me most was deceptively simple: how do we stop doing things? This is a question we continually ask, and for which I posit not many have found the answer.

A Quote Worth Thinking About

One of the panelists shared a quote from Peter Drucker that I still think about: “There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.”

I have been in this profession long enough to know exactly what Drucker is pointing at. We are remarkably good at refining processes, improving workflows, and optimizing operations, sometimes without ever pausing to ask whether the work itself still makes sense.

A friend later added a corollary that made me laugh before it made me wince: “There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all, except doing inefficiently that which should not be done at all.” 

In some libraries, that second version may be the more accurate diagnosis.

The Service Trap

Libraries are, at their core, service organizations. That orientation is one of our great strengths. We step in when others step back. We fill gaps. We say yes. Over the decades, we have accumulated layers of work, some of it clearly ours, and much of it that migrated to us because we were willing, capable, and present.

The problem is that service orientation, unchecked by strategic intentionality, can become its own form of institutional drift. We take on work that arguably belongs in other departments of the college or university. We hold onto services that once addressed a genuine need but have since outlived their moment. We keep doing things because we have always done them, and because stopping feels like a kind of failure or abandonment.

This is not a character flaw. It is a structural one. And in a VUCA environment, where every resource decision carries real consequences, we can no longer afford to let inertia make our choices for us.

Why Stopping Is So Hard

To understand why stopping is difficult, we have to take seriously what work means to people. Staff often define themselves through their responsibilities. The cataloger who has maintained a particular collection for fifteen years, the archivist who built a finding-aid system from the ground up, the librarian who pioneered a service once considered visionary: these are not just job duties. They are identities. They are sources of purpose and professional pride.

Change management research is detailed on this point. William Bridges, in his foundational work on transitions, drew a crucial distinction between change and transition. Change is the external event. Transition is the internal psychological process of letting go of what was, navigating the uncertain middle, and eventually orienting toward something new. Leaders who focus only on managing change and skip the transition, in Bridges’ framework, set people up to fail.

This means that when we decide to sunset a service or restructure a workflow, we have an obligation to create space for grief. That word may sound dramatic in a workplace context, but it is the right one. People lose something real when the work they have invested in is discontinued. Acknowledging that loss, naming it, and not rushing past it is not soft leadership. It is effective leadership.

John Kotter’s eight-step model for leading change reminds us that generating short-term wins and communicating a clear vision are essential, but so is building the coalition that helps people move together. In academic libraries, that coalition often includes department heads, frontline staff, and faculty partners who have come to depend on specific services. Their voices belong in the conversation, not as a veto, but as a vital source of intelligence about what the work actually means and what might be lost or preserved through redesign.

The question “what should we stop?” is best answered not by leadership alone, but through a structured process that invites honest input, sets clear criteria, and separates the emotional weight of transition from the analytical work of evaluation.

A Different Path: Doing Things Differently

Stopping, of course, is not the only answer. Sometimes the right response is not to eliminate a service or function but to reimagine how it is delivered. This path, doing things differently or more efficiently, can be harder to see clearly precisely because it requires us to hold two things at once: a commitment to the underlying purpose and a willingness to release our attachment to the current method of fulfilling it.

Consider how many library workflows were designed in an earlier technological era and have simply never been revisited. A process that once required three staff members and a stack of paper forms may now be handled in a fraction of the time with the right tools, or it may be ripe for automation, consolidation, or elimination of redundant steps. The work still matters. The way we are doing it may not.

This kind of redesign demands honest self-assessment. It is easy to believe that a process is irreducibly complex because we are close to it and have invested in mastering it. But complexity is sometimes real and sometimes inherited, a historical artifact of decisions made under different constraints. Lean thinking, which has been applied with real success in library settings, invites us to map our workflows and identify waste: unnecessary steps, handoffs that add time but not value, approval chains that exist by convention rather than by genuine necessity.

Process redesign also opens conversations that pure elimination forecloses. When staff understand that the goal is not to take their work away but to improve it, resistance softens. The cataloger, freed from repetitive data entry because a system now handles it, can redirect attention to complex materials that genuinely require professional judgment. The reference librarian whose administrative burden is reduced can spend more time with the patrons whose questions matter most. Doing things differently is not always a consolation prize for failing to stop. Sometimes it is the more honest and more ambitious goal.

What this requires of leaders is clarity about purpose. We must be able to articulate, with conviction, not just what a function does but what it is ultimately for. That clarity is the anchor that allows everything else to be questioned.

Guardians of Knowledge, Not of Process

Another panelist shared, “We are guardians of knowledge, but we do not have to be guardians of our processes”.

Academic libraries have a deep and legitimate commitment to preservation, access, and the long arc of the scholarly record. That commitment is worth protecting fiercely. But the specific methods, platforms, workflows, and organizational structures through which we fulfill that commitment are not sacred. They are instruments, and instruments should be evaluated on whether they still serve the purpose for which they were designed.

This requires us to change our mental models. The assumptions that worked well in a stable environment become constraints in a volatile one. When we operate inside a fixed mental model, we optimize within it rather than question it. Chris Argyris called this “single-loop learning,” in which we adjust our actions to fix errors without examining the assumptions that produced them in the first place. “Double-loop learning” goes deeper, interrogating the governing values and frameworks themselves.

Libraries that will thrive through VUCA are those that can distinguish between what they do and why they do it, and remain willing to redesign the former while protecting the latter.

Building a Culture of Innovation

Whether we are stopping things, redesigning them, or doing both at once, none of it is sustainable without the organizational culture to support it. That is the work of building a culture of innovation, and it deserves serious attention alongside the operational decisions we make.

Research on innovative organizational cultures consistently points to a cluster of shared characteristics. Psychological safety, as Amy Edmondson has documented extensively, is foundational. People must believe they can raise questions, flag problems, and propose unconventional ideas without fear of embarrassment or punishment. Without it, the status quo is always the safest option, and no one will surface the honest assessments that strategic decision-making requires.

Innovative cultures also tend to share a tolerance for productive failure. Not recklessness, but a genuine understanding that some experiments will not succeed, and that the learning embedded in those experiments has value. This is easier said than sustained, particularly in public institutions with limited budgets and real accountability to stakeholders who may not share that view. But the alternative, an environment where no one proposes anything unless success is guaranteed, is not cautious leadership. It is organizational stagnation. I am reminded here of a quote I first heard from former Princeton University President, Shirley Tilghman, “An institution that stands still is an institution that gets left behind.” 

Shared vision matters too. Teams that understand not just what they are doing but why they are doing it, and who see a compelling picture of what success looks like, are more likely to generate novel approaches and more willing to absorb the discomfort of change. This is where leadership communication becomes a strategic act, not just an administrative one.

Finally, innovative cultures tend to distribute decision-making closer to the work. Frontline staff often know before anyone else which services are failing, which processes are wasteful, and which opportunities are being missed. Creating structured channels for that intelligence to flow upward, and actually using it, is one of the most straightforward things a leader can do to accelerate a culture of innovation. Skip-level meetings, discussed here previously, can be one such mechanism.

Embracing AI Without Surrendering to Fear

No conversation about the current landscape of academic libraries would be complete without addressing artificial intelligence, if only minimally.

There is real anxiety in our profession about what AI means for library work and for library positions. That anxiety is understandable. It is also, I would argue, not the most useful lens through which to engage the technology.

The Drucker principle applies here with particular clarity. If we are spending time and human effort on tasks that AI can perform well, and those tasks are ones we should not be doing with expensive professional attention anyway, then AI is not a threat to our work. It is permission to do our work better. And when stopping outright is not the right answer, AI is also a powerful tool for doing things differently, compressing the time and effort required for certain functions so that human capacity can be redirected to higher-value work.

Routine metadata processing, certain literature search functions, repetitive data formatting, and some aspects of interlibrary loan workflow are likely candidates for augmentation. Not elimination, augmentation. The goal is to redirect human capacity toward the work that genuinely requires human judgment, human relationships, and the kind of contextual intelligence that no model can replicate. Reference librarians who build trust with researchers over time. Collection curators who understand the intellectual trajectory of a discipline. Instruction librarians who can read a classroom and adjust in real time.

The framing that I find most useful is that AI is not coming for our profession. It is coming for our busywork. And if we can release that busywork with some grace and clear intention, we will be better positioned to articulate and demonstrate the irreplaceable value of what human library professionals actually do.

That requires us to be honest about what we have been protecting. Sometimes the resistance to AI adoption is not really about professional values. It is about the same thing the resistance to stopping any service is about: identity, habit, and the discomfort of change. Naming that honestly is the first step toward moving through it.

A Leadership Imperative

The VUCA panel at ALA reminded me that the challenges facing academic libraries are not temporary disruptions on the way back to stability. This is the environment. Volatility, uncertainty, complexity, and ambiguity are the conditions under which we will lead for the foreseeable future.

That means the question is not whether we will need to change, but whether we will lead that change intentionally or allow it to happen to us. Deciding what to stop, determining what to do differently, supporting people through the transition, shifting our mental models, cultivating genuine innovation, and engaging AI as a tool rather than a threat: these are not separate initiatives. They are facets of the same leadership challenge.

We have an opportunity to model something important for higher education right now. Not just efficient management of decline, but principled, creative, human-centered leadership through genuine uncertainty. I believe libraries are capable of that. I believe the profession has the values and the talent to rise to this moment.

The permission to stop is also the invitation to begin. And sometimes, it is simply the invitation to do the same important work in a better, more efficient, more honest, and more sustainable way.

Suggested Readings

Argyris, C. (1991). Teaching smart people how to learn. Harvard Business Review, 69(3), 99–109.

Bennett, N., & Lemoine, G. J. (2014). What a difference a word makes: Understanding threats to performance in a VUCA world. Business Horizons, 57(3), 311–317. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bushor.2014.01.001

Bridges, W., & Bridges, S. (2009). Managing transitions: Making the most of change (3rd ed.). Da Capo Lifelong Books.

Brown, B. (2018). Dare to lead: Brave work, tough conversations, whole hearts. Random House.

Bryson, J. M. & Bert, G. (2018). Strategic planning for public and nonprofit organizations: A guide to strengthening and sustaining organizational achievement (6th ed.). Wiley.

Duhigg, C. (2014). The power of habit: Why we do what we do in life and business. Random House.

Dweck, C. S. (2007). Mindset: The new psychology of success. Ballentine Books.

Edmondson, A. C. (2018). The fearless organization: Creating psychological safety in the workplace for learning, innovation, and growth. Wiley.

Hamel, G., & Zanini, M. (2020). Humanocracy: Creating organizations as amazing as the people inside them. Harvard Business Review Press.

Kotter, J. P. (2012). Leading change. Harvard Business Review Press.

Kubler-Ross, E., & Kessler, D. (2014). On grief and grieving: Finding the meaning of grief through the five stages of loss. (reprint). Scribner.

Laloux, F. (2014). Reinventing organizations: A guide to creating organizations inspired by the next stage of human consciousness. Nelson Parker.

Oreg, S. (2003). Resistance to change: Developing an individual differences measure. Journal of Applied Psychology, 88(4), 680–693. https://doi.org/10.1037/0021-9010.88.4.680

Ries, E. (2011). The lean startup: How today’s entrepreneurs use continuous innovation to create radically successful businesses. Crown Currency.

Schein, E. H., & Schein, P. A. (2016). Organizational culture and leadership (5th ed.). Jossey-Bass.

Senge, P. M. (2006). The fifth discipline: The art and practice of the learning organization (Rev. ed.). Doubleday.

Sull, D., & Eisenhardt, K. M. (2016). Simple rules: How to thrive in a complex world. (reprint). Harper Business.

Womack, J. P., & Jones, D. T. (2003). Lean thinking: Banish waste and create wealth in your corporation (2nd ed.). Free Press.

Weick, K. E. (1995). Sensemaking in organizations. SAGE Publications.


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The Defensive Leader: Why Openness to Feedback Is a Leadership Superpower

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We all make mistakes. If we have even a modicum of self-awareness, we acknowledge those mistakes and, ideally, learn from them. But there are times when we don’t recognize or acknowledge the errors, and so real learning never has a chance to take root. And sometimes, we find ourselves working within genuinely challenging environments where the mistakes aren’t even our fault. It is precisely in those moments when self-awareness becomes most critical.

When someone calls you on a mistake, the right response is not defensiveness. It is to listen, acknowledge, reflect, learn, and then respond. That sequence matters. Notice that “respond” comes last, not first.

Defensiveness is understandable. It is a deeply human reaction, rooted in our instinct to protect our sense of competence and identity. But in anyone who influences others, whether by title, tenure, expertise, or simply the force of their presence in a room, defensiveness is also deeply corrosive. When the people around you see that raising a concern or offering a critique will be met with deflection, justification, or counterattack, they stop raising concerns. They stop offering critiques. And the person now insulated from honest feedback becomes less effective over time, often without realizing it. You don’t need a title for that dynamic to play out. You just need to be someone others are watching, and in most organizations, that is nearly everyone.

Feedback Is a Gift, Even When It Doesn’t Feel Like One

At my organization, we distributed copies of Douglas Stone and Sheila Heen’s Thanks for the Feedback to all staff. The decision was intentional: there is an art to both giving and receiving feedback, and we want everyone in our community to be thoughtful and deliberate about how they do both. The book’s central insight is that receiving feedback well is a learnable skill, and one that pays compounding dividends throughout a career.

That framing is worth sitting with. Receiving feedback well is a skill. It is not a personality trait you either have or lack. It is something you can develop, practice, and improve. And, like most skills, it requires awareness, effort, and a willingness to be uncomfortable in the short term for the sake of long-term growth. That is as true for the newest member of a team as it is for the most senior person in the room.

What I Look For in Candidates

I will share a pro tip for anyone who might one day apply to work with me. My favorite interview question is this: “Tell me about some feedback you’ve received about your job performance that has resulted in a change in the way you work.”

I love this question because it does several things at once. It invites genuine self-reflection. It asks candidates to demonstrate not just that they received feedback, but that they actually acted on it. And it reveals a great deal about a person’s relationship with their own growth and development. This question is not intended to identify future managers or directors. It aims to identify people who are willing to grow at any level within an organization. Candidates who can answer it thoughtfully and specifically, without either dismissing the feedback they received or catastrophizing it, tend to be people who will continue to grow on the job. That matters enormously to me.

Candidates who struggle with the question, or who reframe every piece of feedback they ever received as a misunderstanding or someone else’s problem, tell me something important too.

A Developmental Tool, Not a Verdict

When I use the word “leader” in this post, I am not referring exclusively to people with titles or positional authority. I mean, anyone who shows up, does their work, and interacts with other human beings in the process, which is to say, everyone. We all influence someone. We all model behaviors, whether we intend to or not. And we are all capable of either reinforcing or undermining a culture of openness, depending on how we respond to feedback.

The upshot is this: don’t be defensive, and practice being open to listening. That is easier said than done. It can be genuinely difficult to hear critical things about yourself, especially when you care deeply about your work, as most people do. The discomfort is real, and it deserves acknowledgment.

But learning to receive feedback with openness and grace is one of the most valuable professional skills any of us can develop. When we treat feedback as a verdict on our worth, we become defensive. When we treat it as a developmental tool, we become better. The choice, ultimately, is ours to make.

What kind of colleague, teammate, and yes, leader, do you want to be?

Further Reading

Dweck, C. S. (2007). Mindset: The new psychology of success. Ballentine Books.

Edmondson, A. C. (2018). The fearless organization: Creating psychological safety in the workplace for learning, innovation, and growth. Wiley.

Scott, K. (2019). Radical candor: Be a kick-ass boss without losing your humanity. St. Martin’s Press.

Stone, D., & Heen, S. (2014). Thanks for the feedback: The science and art of receiving feedback well. Penguin Books. 

Zenger, J., & Folkman, J. (2009). The extraordinary leader: Turning good managers into great leaders. McGraw-Hill.


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When the ALA Members Aren’t Allowed to Speak

Earlier this year, my colleague Beth McNeil and I submitted a resolution to the American Library Association for consideration at the membership meeting on June 17, 2026. The Resolution on ALA Financial Sustainability and Leadership Accountability called for a return to sound fiscal management, transparent governance, and leadership that answers to the members it serves.

It will not make it to the floor for debate. ALA leadership made sure of that.

I will explain what happened, what the resolution said, and why the outcome of this process is itself a case study in the accountability problem we were trying to address.

What We Were Asking

The resolution documents a serious and sustained pattern of financial difficulty. ALA’s General Fund ran a deficit of $6.3 million in fiscal year 2024 (first 11 months), $14.7 million in fiscal year 2025, and a $7 million deficit budget was approved for fiscal year 2026. By October 2025, the CFO had already reported a $3.5 million cash deficit for the current fiscal year, meaning the approved budget was failing within months of adoption.

Since we submitted the resolution, additional evidence has emerged that the Association’s financial trajectory is not improving. In April 2026, the ALA Executive Board approved a preliminary FY2027 budget projecting a deficit of approximately $5.5 million, on total revenues of roughly $38.3 million against total expenses of roughly $43.8 million (2025-2026 EBD 2.9, and EBD 3.27). That budget still requires Council approval at the Annual Meeting, but the board has already signed off on another year of planned deficit spending. This is now the pattern, not the exception.

The Association has borrowed from its endowment, including a $4 million loan in January 2026, with no specific repayment plan. Fundraising goals have been set and missed: $5 million in FY2024 and $10 million in FY2025, neither of which was achieved. Conferences have posted consistent losses. Publishing, a historically core revenue source, has run deficits. An IT outage in 2024 cost an estimated $500,000 to $600,000 in lost revenues. And membership has fallen from 49,705 in FY2022 to 44,869 in FY2025, with a retention rate below 70%, well beneath the industry standard of 80 to 85 percent.

These figures are drawn from ALA’s own reports and audit. This is not speculation. This is the documented financial condition of our Association.

The resolution requested performance reviews of the senior leaders responsible for areas with consistent losses, the restoration of year-end financial reporting to members (a practice that was discontinued), and transparent reporting by the Executive Director on corrective actions. It required no expenditure of funds. It was grounded in existing governance authority.

How It Was Handled

We followed the process. We submitted the resolution in accordance with ALA’s published guidelines. We shared it with the ALA Executive Director in advance as a courtesy. The ALA president then requested a meeting, which was also attended by the treasurer and executive director. The meeting had a clear purpose: to persuade us not to submit. We were told the resolution might be ruled out of order.

On May 28, 2026, we learned the Resolutions Committee had referred the resolution to the ALA Bylaws Committee for a ruling on whether it was out of order. On June 6, 2026, we received the committee’s conclusion. The Resolutions Committee chair wrote to us:

Unfortunately, after reviewing the resolution ourselves, and receiving feedback from the Bylaws Committee, the Resolutions Committee cannot move this resolution forward, as it would violate the bylaws of the Association.

The specific rationale from the Bylaws Committee was that our resolved clauses conflicted with two sections of the ALA Bylaws: Article IV, Section 2, which assigns management duties to the Executive Director, and Article V, Section 2, which gives the Executive Board fiduciary responsibility and delegates day-to-day operations to the Executive Director. The committee’s conclusion was that “only the Executive Board, not ALA members, can assign or delegate work to the Executive Director.”

A member of the Bylaws Committee added that “in non-profits, it is considered best practice for the Executive Director to be the staff leader to whom all other staff report. The board has one employee, the ED. The ED manages the other staff.”

178 ALA members had signed their support for the resolution. Past presidents, current directors, and longtime members of the profession. Their voices, and those of the many more who share these concerns, will not be heard.

What This Ruling Actually Says

The rationale for not moving the resolution forward is worth examining carefully.

The Bylaws Committee’s position is that ALA members cannot, through the resolution process, ask the Executive Director to take specific corrective actions, because only the Executive Board can direct the Executive Director. This is offered as a defense of governance norms. But if the Executive Board is the body responsible for directing the Executive Director, and it has presided over years of multi-million-dollar deficits, missed fundraising targets, and conference losses without meaningful corrective action, then what exactly is the members’ recourse? And I acknowledge the Executive Director has been in the role for less than one year, but the problems we describe predate this leader. 

We are told that management of the Association belongs to the Executive Director and oversight belongs to the Executive Board. We are also watching, through publicly available documents, a years-long pattern of financial deterioration with no credible plan for recovery. The preliminary FY2027 budget, approved by that same Executive Board, projects another $5.5 million deficit. And when members attempt to use the resolution process to formally name what is happening and seek accountability, they are told that the bylaws do not permit it.

This is what a member-driven organization looks like, apparently.

The committee’s citation of best practices around the Executive Director as the board’s sole employee is accurate as far as it goes. But best practice governance also holds that boards are accountable to the members of the organizations they govern, and that members have the right to express their collective will through the mechanisms their association provides. A parliamentarian’s ruling can determine whether a resolution is procedurally in order. It cannot determine whether the underlying concerns are valid. They are.

The Transparency Problem Remains

When Beth and I met with ALA leadership and asked what transparency would look like, we suggested fewer closed executive board meetings, more open access to financial reports, and genuine reporting out from executive sessions. The Spring 2026 Executive Board minutes (2025-2026 (EBD 2.9) are instructive. The board moved into executive session to discuss ALA Editions, ALA Real Estate, appointments, and strategic board matters, and then adjourned from those sessions without a report out, despite a commitment made in August 2025 to do exactly that.

The minutes also include language like this:

Sam Helmick, ALA President, provided an update of the work around this Spring Board Session in providing a space for strategic discussion to address areas on our structural deficit and the ALA Forward roadmap.  

I do not know what that means. I do know that ALA members deserve better.

Where We Go From Here

The Resolutions Committee offered us the opportunity to revise the resolution so that it no longer conflicts with the bylaws. We will not be doing that. The resolution said what it needed to say. The 178 members who signed it understood what they were supporting. A revised resolution, sufficiently softened to satisfy the very leadership it was meant to hold accountable, would not be the same resolution.

I have already stepped back from my ALA commitments, and I will only selectively reengage. That is not a decision I made lightly. I have given a significant part of my professional life to this Association, and I believe in what it is supposed to stand for. But I also believe that an organization unwilling to hear from its members through the processes it created for exactly that purpose has lost its way.

Blocking a resolution does not make the financial problems disappear. The deficits are real and compounding. The membership decline is real. The pattern of unmet fundraising goals, underperforming conferences, and executive sessions without accountability is documented and ongoing.

What this process has demonstrated is that when members attempt to use the formal governance tools available to them, those tools can be redirected and neutralized when the questions they raise are uncomfortable. 

ALA matters. The profession needs it to be strong, financially stable, and genuinely accountable to its members. That is not an attack on the Association. It is a statement of what the Association is supposed to be. Whether ALA’s current leadership chooses to rise to that standard is, apparently, not something its members are permitted to weigh in on.

Correction:

The Executive Board did not take a ($4M) loan from the Long-Term Investment (the endowment), but rather WITHDREW funds from the Future Fund, which is unrestricted.  The Endowment Trustees did not approve funds in excess of the annual payout withdrawal, but the final decision rests with the Executive Board.  The previous $3M transfers with terms had a repayment and interest process.  The Executive Board has waived that.  This action does not impact restricted or designated gift funds.