For Better or Worse I Made the Call
I think there is a bit of a myth out there about facilitators: that we only have questions.
When we introduce people to facilitation, we often talk about the difference between Ask and Tell. On one end of the continuum is telling — presenting information, giving advice, providing direction. On the other is asking — posing questions, listening, drawing out different perspectives and helping a group find its own way forward. And, for the most part, facilitators are trying to live toward the Ask end of that continuum.
We aren’t there to decide the outcome. We aren’t there to tell people what they should think or which decision they should make. We are there to ask good questions, hold the process and create the conditions for the wisdom of the group to emerge.
All of that is true.
But, like most models, I think it gets a little messier when you put real people in a real room.
I was reminded of this recently while facilitating a meeting for a territorial government. Ministers from a number of provinces and territories had been invited together to talk about a specific river and watershed that crossed through several of their jurisdictions. The hosting territory was convening the conversation, although the meeting itself was taking place in a different province. I had designed the session, but I wasn’t involved in every aspect of the logistics and planning leading up to the day.
The session itself was meant to happen in two parts. Staff would begin by providing an overview of the information the ministers needed to know, and then I would take over to facilitate the conversation about some of the choices and decisions ahead.
But the most interesting facilitation moment happened before we got anywhere near that conversation.
It happened in about the first seven minutes.
An Indigenous Elder had been invited to join the meeting to provide some opening remarks, a prayer and a blessing so that we could begin the gathering in a good way.
Everyone arrived and settled in. There were ministers sitting around the table, many with their chiefs of staff sitting directly behind them. You can probably imagine the room: reasonably formal, a lot of positional authority, and quite a few different power dynamics already present before anyone had said very much at all.
I welcomed everyone, gave a very brief overview of why we were there and what we would be doing together, and then said something along the lines of, “Before we begin, I’d like to invite our Elder to open us up in a really good way.”
The Elder began to speak.
And almost immediately, one of the ministers stood up and spoke over him.
“Actually, Kim, I’d like us to stop there. I think we should do a round of introductions before we get started.”
Eeeekkk…ackkkk….what do I do know????!!!!
I had already invited the Elder to speak. He had begun. Stopping him at that point felt disrespectful, potentially even rude. On the other hand, I had a minister making a very clear request — and doing it publicly, in a room where there were a lot of expectations about hierarchy, protocol and how things were supposed to unfold.
I had about three seconds to figure out what to do.
And this is where I think the idea that facilitators only ask questions starts to break down.
I could have turned to the room and asked, “What would everyone like to do?” But that would have been a terrible question. (YES - there are BAD questions in facilitation 😂)
It would have put the Elder and the minister into an even more awkward situation, asked the rest of the room to effectively choose between them, and turned what was already a slightly uncomfortable moment into a negotiation about process. The group did not need another question from me.
They needed me to make a call. So, for better or for worse, I did.
I don’t remember the exact words but I think it sounded something like this “Minister, thank you so much for raising that. I want you to know I haven’t forgotten about introductions. Because our Elder has already begun, I’d like to invite him to finish, and then I will promptly come back to introductions immediately afterward.”
And then I turned the floor back to the Elder and invited him to continue.
As he continued I had a moment to reflect as I watched the faces around the room.
There were a couple of people whose expressions seemed to say, No, we really should have done introductions first. And there were others who very clearly seemed to be thinking, Yes. The Elder should finish. There probably wasn’t an answer in that moment that would have made everybody happy. Better yet, I would have loved to be involved MORE in the planning and design.
And, interestingly, that is one of the reasons the experience has stuck with me.
We often talk about facilitator neutrality, and I think it is incredibly important. But neutrality doesn’t mean we are neutral about everything.
One of the most useful distinctions in facilitation is between content and process.
The content belongs to the group: the ideas, perspectives, options, decisions and ultimately whatever they decide to do about the issue they have come together to discuss. The facilitator should be very careful about inserting themselves into that. But the process is different.
As facilitators, we actually carry quite a bit of responsibility for how people are going to work together.
We are paying attention to who is speaking and who isn’t. We are watching what is happening with power. We are noticing when someone is dominating, when another person is disappearing from the conversation, when the room needs to slow down, or when something is happening that could undermine the conditions for a good conversation. That responsibility for the process is very much part of the facilitator role.
In this case, I had absolutely no business telling a room full of ministers what they should think about the future of a watershed. But I did have a responsibility for how we were going to begin.
And sometimes that means being directive.
Sometimes it means interrupting.
Sometimes it means saying, “We are going to hear from this person first.”
Sometimes it means reminding a group about an agreement they have made.
Sometimes it means slowing everyone down.
And occasionally it means making a decision about the process because asking the group to make it would actually make things worse.
We can’t remove people norms and dynamics from the room, but we do have to notice them. And sometimes we have to make choices in response to them.
Would another facilitator have handled that opening differently? Maybe
Were there people in the room who would have preferred that I make another choice? Almost certainly.
That is part of facilitation too.
Sometimes there isn’t a perfect answer. Sometimes there are simply a number of competing responsibilities, and you have to decide, in the moment, what best supports the people, the process and the conversation you are trying to create.
So yes, good facilitators ask really good questions. And I think good facilitators also know when not to ask one.
And every once in a while, when you find yourself between a rock and a hard place you need to make a call (and then learn from it).