I wanted to share a case that happened to me with you. We can learn from it in similar situations and even apply it to situations that have suspicious signs.
So, the case was as follows:
In recent months, as part of our consulting work at a large global company, I was asked to initiate several activities within a global portal that my colleagues had worked on until then. For me, this was a new project full of challenges, because it involved working with a team of experts located overseas and serving company employees situated at sites spread throughout the world.
As part of the activity, I took on one content area among many and operated in the routine and fruitful way that my predecessors had—I approached a content expert, hereinafter referred to as Moshe (full name kept in the system). Together we established a team of leaders including people from several countries: USA, Hungary, India, Czech Republic, and Ireland.
My work plan was clear and simple: Moshe and I would prepare a presentation outlining the content area's goals and objectives, create a content tree as we envision it in a colorful demo, and present the idea to the entire team via video conference. They would then express their opinions, provide arguments for and against each topic we raised, suggest new ideas, and volunteer to collect content according to a topic close to their heart.
Indeed, the long-awaited day arrived, and we gathered in the meeting room equipped with screens on all sides, where the faces of domain managers from around the world began to appear. "Let's begin," I started in fluent English, after hours of practice in front of the mirror. "Moshe and I want to present the skeleton of the content area to you as we see it. Since the content area is meant to be a working tool for you, we need to hear your opinion, and that's why we've gathered."
Moshe and I eloquently presented an invested and heartwarming demo, with Moshe elaborating on the advantages of each component.
"This was the content area from my perspective only," said Moshe, "but it's important that you also contribute your knowledge. So, what do you think?"
"Very nice," says the Hungarian. "Yes. I agree," nods the Indian.
"Great!" Moshe rejoiced. "And what topics should we add?"
"No need to add anything," answers the Czech. "It covers everything," adds the American with a glazed look.
"I'm sure there are additional topics we can add," I said. "No - it's perfect," they said. "And what about the division of content? Is it clear, correct, and intuitive?" "Very intuitive," they answered in a drowsy chorus.
At the end of the conference meeting, I shared with Moshe the sense of disinterest I felt from the team during the meeting. Moshe agreed with me and noted that holding such meetings on Mondays is not advisable, as everyone is still tired from the weekend.
Well, so Moshe and I decided to continue, and for another month we worked on collecting content and enriching the demo. At the end, we held another video meeting (needless to say, not on a Monday this time), and presented the content we had collected and the new topics. "What do you think?" Moshe asked with a big smile. "Great!" said the participants, each in turn. This time Moshe didn't fall into the trap and personally addressed each of the participants, asking about a specific topic related to them. "Nice material," they all answered. "Okay, so let's divide responsibilities between us, who takes which part, and start collecting content," I said enthusiastically. "Very good," the Czech reinforced me, "send us an email about who does what." At a loss, I remembered good advice from my colleague, and said, "Dear friends, perhaps we can prepare a professional topic that could interest all of you next time. One of you will present it to the rest, and afterward, each one will share their knowledge and opinions in the field. We'll turn our meetings into a learning team that shares knowledge among ourselves and on the portal." A silence of several minutes prevailed in the room, when the Indian saved the situation and said, "We'll think about it."
So we found ourselves finishing an intercontinental conference meeting that had been scheduled for an hour and a half within 40 minutes.
What's Happening Here?
I asked Moshe and me after the meeting ended. On one hand, we didn't hear a single criticism about the content we presented and wrote. The content tree seemed appropriate to the team, the documents and windows we proposed received nods from all directions. But on the other hand, I didn't feel there was true partnership, no opinions were expressed for or against, no responsibility was taken, team members didn't volunteer their knowledge, and, beyond approving the content we presented, the conference meetings failed to take off.
Then Moshe directed me to think in a direction I hadn't thought of before, despite it being something that should have accompanied me at every moment: cultural gaps. After considering the matter, I began talking with people inside and outside the organization who frequently work with people overseas.
One of them told me that in many cultures, there is no practice of publicly offering criticism (how different from us Israelis, right?). It gradually became clear to me that there was a good chance that team members thought the demo and content were not good or comprehensive. From their perspective, the company headquarters, the organization's management sitting here in Israel, was presenting an idea, and they didn't have the right to criticize it, certainly not publicly.
Many considerations and sensitivities come into play here: the difference in authority relations between employee and employer across cultures, the sense of freedom to express an opinion, how to express a contrary opinion and in what forum, what is the political significance of such opposition—all these are cultural aspects that must be taken into account when working with groups from different cultures.
These hypotheses were confirmed and strengthened when Moshe and I considered alternative ways to obtain team members' true opinions.
Our first step was to send the demo presentation by email to each person separately and attach a questionnaire with explicit questions, such as: specify five topics that didn't receive sufficient space in the content area, indicate work processes that are not currently expressed in the portal. We didn't stop there and even detailed central work processes in the questionnaire and asked them to indicate what information and knowledge they need at each stage and where they usually get it from.
Many of the questionnaires were returned to us with eye-opening comments. However, a few team members didn't find it appropriate to offer criticism even in this way and only contributed their opinions through personal phone calls.
From the individual responses, we understood that there is much rooxsm for improvement in the content area we built, and the conference meetings with nods, agreements, and positive reinforcements were, in fact, almost useless.
And what did I learn from the whole experience? That it's important to remember that the behaviors of the person in front of you are not always predictable. This becomes even more significant when it comes to cross-cultural differences. We Israelis are so direct, so uncalculating, "straight-shooters," warm and friendly. It's important not to judge and not to be condescending. There's no issue of right or wrong here; there is just difference. To anyone who is experiencing or about to experience such an experience, I recommend being aware of this difference, and if possible, talking beforehand with people who work continuously with the target countries and trying to learn in advance about these gaps.
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