The Customer Isn't Always Right

“What if the person showing bias is a client?”

A law student recently hung around to ask me that question after an orientation I was leading on cultivating an inclusive community.

“When I was a paralegal,” she explained (carefully), “there were some awkward situations. But the customer is supposed to always be right. How do you speak up and be polite at the same time?”

Her question pointed to a set of very real, and complicated, challenges. How can you address bias in a person who—if they respond negatively—could have a negative impact on your career?

Especially if you’re a junior employee, you’re expected to defer to clients. Saying something critical can seem like a violation of the smooth, service-oriented experience you are supposed to maintain.

But if you just ignore the behavior, it might continue, and damage your and others’ work environment.

In sensitive situations like this, strategies to interrupt bias can be more effective than confronting it directly.

For instance, ask a clarifying question. “What did you mean?” is sometimes all it takes to nudge a person’s awareness of something they said without making any direct comment. And even if the person responds defensively, you have prompted a pause. You’ll have signaled to them—and to anyone observing—that the comment was problematic.

Another interrupting strategy is offering a different opinion or perspective. “I think she was being passionate about her point of view, not necessarily angry. I’d be passionate too—it was a powerful idea.”

By the way, these are excellent strategies for bystanders as well. Questions and other perspectives serve as guardrails, marking that a behavior was at a borderline of appropriateness without making an individual feel singled out.

Of course, sometimes bystanders let us down. And the power dynamics of observers can also add to the challenge. What if a partner observes the biased behavior, and says nothing? What’s the responsibility of the firm in this situation?

If you’re an employer, how can you have your team’s back in the case of a client’s bias?

An organizations’ responsibility to protect workers from harassment includes the clients they work with. And, microaggressions are a form of harassment: they are behaviors based on a person’s identity that cause harm. As with sexual harassment, it’s the impact that matters: was the behavior welcomed? That is the legal standard that protects employees against sexual harassment, so why not use it when considering other forms of harassment?

So as risky as it might feel to interrupt bias with a client, don’t ignore their behavior if it causes concern. If you see something, speak up—either to the client or to your employer. Maybe the relationship manager can diplomatically provide feedback when another staff member can’t.

If it continues, it is important for employers to make it clear: we don’t treat our people this way, and we won’t tolerate you doing it either.

And in some cases, the only way to really support your employees is to take the client off your client list.

Out-Of-Office

I can tell we’ve entered August because my inbox is full of out-of-office auto-replies.

I can tell we’ve entered a new era of work culture by what these messages say.

In my law firm days, I was “out of the office with limited access to email,” and I’d promise to check in once a day and reply as promptly as I could.

In other words, I wasn’t really on vacation.

But in recent years I’ve noticed a new norm for these auto-responders: people were committing to respond when they got back. Imagine: time off-work that didn’t require working during time-off!

Recently, I’ve seen some millennials being even more affirmative: itemizing their vacation plans, expressing their restorative goals and motivations, and defending the importance of detaching from work.

Even though it goes against the way in which I was raised professionally I’ve come to appreciate this approach. Last month’s Harvard Business Review piece by Rebecca Zucker laid out the researched benefits of vacations. Not only do they result in improved physical and mental health; they also improve people’s work quality and engagement when they’re back in the office. So employers benefit too. Seeing as more than 50% of U.S. workers leave paid vacation time on the table, we certainly need the reminder.

Using an equity lens, though, reveals the justice issues that underlie the out-of-office message. As Tricia Hersey (founder of The Nap Ministry) says, “Rest Is resistance.” In her analysis, our hesitance to truly disengage from work is related to the systems of oppression that harm everyone, especially those already disadvantaged in our social hierarchies.

“Black people are dying from sleep deprivation,” Hersey writes, as capitalism and white supremacy continue to drive “the entire globe to exhaustion and a deep disconnection with our bodies and minds today. We are no longer divine human beings in this system and instead machines.”

I hope you honor your humanity this summer and get some rest. And when you receive an auto-reply from a colleague—or when you are drafting your own—remember the significance of this choice.

Also remember that it’s not a choice everyone gets. Too many workers don’t get paid time off at all. Those who are paid hourly lose income when they take breaks, and millions depend on every hour to pay for food and housing for themselves and their families.

If you’re a manager or business owner, in a position to give people time off, do it right. Encourage your employee to step away, particularly if they are hesitant, and honor their time off when they do. Look at your policies and work to make sure everyone in your organization has some way to disconnect. And model the practice of rest yourself.

As for me, I have revised my auto-reply message. I tell folks I’ll get back to them when I return. I admit I still do sneak a look at my inbox while I’m away (and I reply to messages that are urgent), but I’m working on it. In this one part of life, at least, I am striving to be less productive.

A Mistake Is Not A Sin

What are you afraid of?

Is it really “saying the wrong thing”?

Why is that scary for you?

Part of it is genuine empathy, I’m sure. The harm of an offensive term or a microaggression is real. It’s no fun to know you’ve caused harm in someone else.

But we do it all the time in other contexts. We step on someone’s toe. We snap at someone when we’re stressed. We show up late and keep someone waiting.

None of these potential harms keeps us from interacting with others. We just apologize and move on. It’s understood that mistakes happen. What we do after we make a mistake is what determines how the relationship will be affected.

And yet the DEI context—missteps related to identities, to power dynamics, to unconscious bias—seems to paralyze many of us.

It makes me wonder if the issue is solely empathy. I think what we’re really afraid of is being called out.

Missteps that fall into the category of racism, sexism, or any of the other isms or phobias feel like more than mistakes. They feel like sins. Many people fear they will be placed permanently into a shameful class of “bad people.”

If that’s the anxiety, the hesitance makes sense. And I don’t mean to trivialize it. Our belief in our own honesty and integrity is sacred to us. The thought that we could lose our reputation for something we didn’t intend to do wrong is upsetting.

What I encourage participants to do if they feel stuck in this moment is to shift their perspective. Our anxiety about being labeled “bad” and punished for it comes from a deep place. But everyone has anxieties about being treated unfairly.

Including the people around us who are women, people of color, queer, or disabled.

And statistically, people in those categories are treated more unfairly than average. And the consequences of your honest mistakes for a person in a marginalized group can be significant.

Saying the wrong thing is a risk. But what you do after you have offended someone is what really determines your reputation. If your fear makes you defensive, you will likely reinforce the annoyance. Try to turn defensiveness into gratitude.

“Thank you for telling me that sounded racist,” you could say. “I’m so sorry.”

Now you have shown your empathy. Now you can learn from your mistake.

Next time, you will do better.