Reflex

Since my Dad passed away, Father's Day has become a powerful time for reflection, a chance to truly consider his profound impact on my life and, by extension, on everyone around me. It's striking how many of my leadership traits—both good and, well, not so good—can be traced back to my upbringing: my parents' views on relationships and their approach to work. My father, in particular, instilled in me a non-conformist spirit, a deep well of grit and resilience (you might call it stubbornness!), a knack for ingenuity, and a strong sense of fairness and assertiveness. This week, I won't be focusing on how his legacy directly shapes my leadership actions. Instead, I want to explore a broader truth: the undeniable influence of those who raised us on our ability to become successful leaders.

Consider the silent, often invisible forces shaping our interactions. We readily acknowledge the specific lessons and attitudes that our early leadership influencers instilled in us, those conscious choices that frame our approach to work and leadership. But what about the deeply ingrained responses, the ones we enact without a second thought? These are our reflexes. We appreciate them when we instinctively catch ourselves from falling or duck from a flying object. Yet, countless times each day, we unconsciously react to the subtle cues from our work environment and the people around us. These social reflexes, though often imperceptible to us, practically glow in neon to everyone else.

My understanding of reflexivity, a concept I first encountered during my doctoral studies and linked to deep reflection, truly clicked years later. My brothers, dad, and I often fall into loud, passionate—and not always productive—conversations. These discussions, a blend of storytelling and bravado, sometimes devolved into factions. One shared trait my father and I possessed was a dislike of being proven wrong, especially on topics where we held strong opinions (even uninformed ones!). We both enjoyed staying current, reading, and readily sharing our views. During one such debate, my father and I found ourselves on the same side, opposing my two brothers. As we passionately argued our case, one of my brothers (likely the shorter one) pointed out a factual error in our argument. At that moment, the discussion simply shifted, and we moved on to other, more inane debates.

However, later that day, my incredibly patient wife, who had been observing, mentioned something striking. She said that the instant my brother made his point, my dad and I had the exact same physical response, simultaneously. Our reflexes kicked in, though neither of us recalled reacting, nor did we notice the reaction in the other. Without her feedback, I would have sworn there was no reaction at all. This observation stuck with me, bringing back the concept of reflexivity. Ever since, I’ve been fascinated by how our social reflexes influence our relationships and, critically, our leadership.

I learned a few valuable lessons from that experience that have shaped my leadership style. For one, social interactions are filled with triggers for reflexes—it could be a tone, a topic, the timing, or even the environment. These triggers can be completely unrelated to the current conversation, yet they can still provoke an instant, unconscious reaction. Imagine someone mentioning a place, and that single word triggers a reflex that has nothing to do with them or the topic at hand. These reflexes are so fast, we don't even realize they're happening, and if asked, we'd probably deny any reaction at all.

What truly fascinates me is the realization that while I might miss my own reflexive moments, I'm far more likely to spot someone else reacting to them. And these moments are pure gold for leadership development. They offer a direct invitation to self-reflection, a powerful clue to the origin of my reflexes, ultimately paving the way for more deliberate and effective leadership. When I observe these reactions, my first thought is to consider what in my own behaviour triggered the other person's response. Often, these reflexes are involuntary reactions to something I'm communicating. They become noticeable, even provocative, when they seem out of sync with the topic or the situation—like a faint smile when someone shares bad news. Instead of dwelling on their reaction, I turn the lens inward. I assume their response was prompted by something I said, something I wasn't even aware of. These instances become opportunities to connect the dots between the present and the past, shaping a better future. While I can't always pinpoint the exact connection, when I do, it equips me for future interactions with that person or on that topic. Though reflection might not grant me absolute control over my reflexes, it significantly heightens my awareness of them, allowing me to adjust, address, or reinforce crucial insights that my reflexes, and the world, are revealing to me.

The ultimate frontier for leadership development lies in transforming our response to the reflexes of others. While our own social reflexes are incredibly hard to spot, we effortlessly notice every eye roll, head nod, smile, and twitch from those we're speaking with. We instantly assign meaning to these non-verbals, especially when they deviate from our expectations. The danger, however, is that some of these reactions are mere reflexes—uncontrollable responses to a social interaction that may not convey the true sentiment or message trying to be communicated.

Too often, we leap to conclusions based on these reflexes, effectively tuning out all other information. Yet, as leaders, our aim is to uncover the authentic message and meaning being communicated. This can only happen when we consciously pause our snap judgements. When you observe your reaction to another's reflex, slow down. Consider your own communication: are you conveying your message clearly and understandably? Perhaps try a different approach. Instead of assuming, ask: "It looks like you have something to say about my comment?" or other questions that shift the conversation from agreement to genuine understanding. Don't hesitate to address the behaviour you observe. If a reflex ignites confusion, frustration, or conflict, confront it—ideally in the moment, but always after thoughtful consideration.

Our reflexes are ingrained responses to social and emotional triggers, beyond our conscious control. Yet, they are within our grasp to understand. Use these cues to ignite your reflective practice. When you witness another person's reflexes, hit the brakes on assigning judgement and meaning. Transform the dynamic from speaker to listener by asking insightful questions. And crucially, articulate what you see and offer feedback. My father, in ways both obvious and subtle, imparted invaluable leadership lessons. I'm grateful to my wife and others who, with genuine care, illuminated my own reflexes. Your reflexes can be a goldmine for leadership growth; view each reaction as an invitation to deepen your relationships. This may feel like a daunting task, but it pales in comparison to the repercussions of misjudging and misinterpreting a fleeting, unconscious social reflex.