anniversary post

Difficult conversations don’t have to be negative. They can be, and often are, the catalyst for needed change.   Learn how to maximize the likelihood that everyone involved comes out of the conversation with new ideas and new energy.

~Ken McLeod; executive coach

On June 29, Ken tweeted a link to an article recently published on his Unfettered Mind website called Removing Obstacles and Seeing the Basis in Relationships.  It is a review of some of his thoughts on human relationships and the “reactive patterns” that negatively affect them.

His new offering gave me pause.  First, because Ken positions himself as a relationship expert; and second, because his neat compartmentalizations do not reflect the breadth and depth of human relationships in real life.

Ken has peculiar qualifications for a relationship guru.  He has led a partially cloistered existence (seven years in retreat, single most of his adult life), has never had children or held down a regular “job”, and has no professional training or higher degree in the humanities.  After earning a Master’s in mathematics, he studied and practiced meditation for twenty years, then established himself as a Buddhist teacher and translator.  Now, as a “consultant” and executive “coach”, he expects others to unquestioningly accept him as an authority on their personal and professional relationships.   

A year ago, Ken was invited into a “difficult conversation” by me and another student grievant.  He could have applied some of the skills he markets to turn this conversation into a “catalyst for needed change” but, instead, he chose silence.  He broke this silence once to threaten lawsuits against two journalist who dared to mention that invitation to enter that “difficult conversation”, and a second time to privately apologize to one of them for his blunder. (Adam Tebbe, editor of Sweeping Zen, mentions the apology here) 

How, when Ken avoids “difficult conversations” in his own life, does he hope to help others with theirs?  

As to Ken’s theory of relationships, it is based on a conceptualization that is hyper-rational and impractically systematic.  Before being able to relate to anyone, we first have to identify the “interior obstacles” getting in the way of “seeing what the basis of the relationship actually is.”  Once we have done that, we apply the Buddhist practices of equanimity, loving kindness, compassion and joy to “remove” these obstacles.  Then we examine the “basis” of the relationship to determine whether it is founded on “shared aim”, “mutual benefit” or “emotional connection”.  Finally, we are ready to relate to others- but this must be done without attraction, aversion or indifference, and we must keep in mind the “basis” of the relationship so that we know our “responsibilities and obligations”.  We must not fall into “imbalance” or “confusion”.  

No wonder Ken thinks that “true relationship is relatively rare.”

According to this schematic representation, a relationship has to fit into one of three categories, reactions have to be one of three types, and the basis of a relationship has to be strictly utilitarian.  There is no room in such a rigid view for complex or altruistic relationships, ambivalence or ambiguity.  There is no room for spontaneity or relating to others as ends-in-themselves rather than as a means to satisfying a predetermined set of criteria.  Relationship is in fact presented by Ken as self-conscious, deliberate and willed rather than as uncontrived and unbidden.  

It seems that Ken would like to transpose some of the Buddhist tools he has developed in his private mental workshop onto the world he cohabits with others, treating relationship as an exercise in self-determination as opposed to a fluid exchange between two living beings.  In this he completely disregards the basic Buddhist tenet of interdependent origination, according to which we do not always get to choose whether, when and how we relate to others.  Someone really should inform Ken that relationships, like everything else in our lives, can arise all by themselves. 

One of the things Ken fails to consider is that others can be in relationship to us whether we want them to be or not, and that we do not completely control this aspect of our lives.  We do not always get to decide what obligations and responsibilities we have, nor can we always unilaterally disconnect from them when a relationship no longer suits us.  

On Ken’s view, unless there is some “basis” for a relationship, one is under no obligation to relate to anyone else.  I can ignore others if I want or, to quote Ken, “cut when I have to”.  In Ken’s world, personal accountability is optional.  

At least, in this regard, he practices what he preaches.  

In my own experience with Ken, when he suddenly, and without explanation, withdrew to his hole of silence, I wrote to ask him if, as my teacher, he had “engineered this situation as the ultimate koan”.  Ken replied in his final email communication to me: “I am not in the teacher role. I exited that role several months ago, and there is no going back… On my side, I'm not going to pursue a relationship with you. And, yes, I see no point in any further communication.  With best wishes, Ken” (personal communication; November 2, 2009).  

Many people admire Ken’s brand of cool, calculated, “unfettered” and emotionally deceased Buddhism.  They seem to see it as a way of “living awake” that values clarity and cleanliness over the messiness and intimacy of attachment.  This cool clarity holds a particular draw for technocrats and others who use retreat as a means to escape "difficult conversations" instead of responding to them in real time, unrehearsed and uncensored.