Supportive Leadership Without the Script

Before you dive into today’s edition, here are couple of resources:

These will help you make the most of what i’m going to share today.

In my early years of leadership, I sat across from a team member who'd missed her third consecutive deadline. I'd prepared everything.

My notes, a timeline, an improvement plan.

I even practiced my tone in the mirror that morning. As an introvert, that preparation cost me two hours of emotional energy I didn't have to spare.

The conversation lasted eight minutes. She nodded, took notes, and promised to do better.

Two weeks later, the same problem.

You know this frustration. The feedback lands, they hear you, acknowledge the issue, and even agree. But nothing changes. You wonder if you're too soft, or somehow failing at this basic leadership skill.

I kept trying different scripts.

Each one felt rehearsed. Each one drained more energy. Each one created distance instead of connection.

Then a colleague pulled me aside. "Your feedback feels like you're reading from a management book. It doesn't sound like you."

That stung. Because she was right.

I'd been so focused on saying the right thing that I'd stopped being a real person in the conversation.

No wonder nothing stuck. I was emotionally exhausted after every feedback session.

Most corporate feedback training teaches you what to say.

You may have heard of the infamous sandwich method.

Or the SBI framework.

Even Radical Candor's "care personally, challenge directly."

These frameworks aren't wrong. They're based on solid research. They work in certain contexts. They're just incomplete for actual human interactions.

Because supportive leadership isn't about perfect delivery or following a structure. It's about genuine curiosity and creating psychological safety. When people feel you're performing a script, they perform their response. Everyone's acting, and nothing real happens.

For introverts leading teams, this creates a double drain. You spend energy rehearsing the conversation, then more energy performing it in a mode that doesn't match your natural style, and then additional energy recovering from pretending to be someone you're not.

I've given feedback dozens of times over the past 14 years. The scripted ones? People nodded politely and left unchanged. I was exhausted, and nothing improved. The real ones, where I dropped the script? Those created actual behavior changes and required half the energy.

Google's Project Aristotle research found that psychological safety, not perfect communication frameworks, was the single most important factor in team effectiveness. People change when they genuinely trust you, not when you phrase things perfectly.

What you can do right now: Write down the name of one specific person who needs feedback from you this week. Just the name. No judgment. No lengthy backstory yet. We'll build the rest together as you read.

After my colleague called me out, I stopped preparing scripts entirely. Instead, I started practising by being genuinely curious about what was blocking someone.

The next conversation felt terrifying. No notes. No framework. Just me, sitting down with the team member who kept missing deadlines, admitting, "I'm genuinely confused about what's making this hard for you. Can you help me understand what I'm missing?"

She paused. Looked at me carefully, like she was scanning for the hidden trap. Then she talked for ten minutes straight. I took notes and didn't interrupt once.

Turns out, she was drowning in competing priorities from three different managers. She'd been trying to signal this for weeks through increasingly obvious hints, mentioning conflicting deadlines in standups, sending carefully worded emails highlighting scheduling conflicts. But I'd been too busy preparing my script to hear her.

We didn't fix everything that day. The systemic issues required conversations with other managers. But we started talking as two humans solving a shared problem.

If I were to say what changed, a major part would be that I stopped assuming I knew the problem. Every time I'd prepared notes, I'd already decided what was wrong. That closed off the real conversation and meant I wasted hours preparing for the wrong discussion.

I let silence happen. After asking a question, I used to jump in immediately. That killed their space to think. As an introvert using silent leadership principles, silence is naturally comfortable for me. I just needed permission to use it as a tool.

I asked what they needed, not what I thought they should do. My improvement plans were generic solutions that didn't fit their actual situation, their working style, or the real systemic issues they were navigating.

The biggest surprise was that these unscripted conversations took dramatically less time. Twelve minutes of genuine dialogue solved more than six weeks of check-ins. Less emotional drain. Better results. Real change.

What you can do right now: Write down what you currently believe the problem is. Be specific and honest. Then write underneath, "What if I'm completely wrong about this?" This single mindset shift will change your entire approach to the conversation.

After testing this with eight team members over two months, three questions consistently moved conversations from defensive to collaborative.

Not "why are you struggling with this" or "what's the problem you're having."

Those phrasings create defensiveness because they imply personal failure. This question assumes the work is manageable and invites them to name real obstacles. Systemic issues, resource gaps, unclear expectations.

One senior team member answered immediately. "I don't know what success looks like for this project. I have three different definitions from three different stakeholders."

Three months of frustration came down to conflicting goals that nobody had named. We fixed it in fifteen minutes by aligning on specific success criteria.

Not "what should you do differently" or "how can you improve this."

That phrasing puts the entire burden on them and implies the problem is individual performance. This question opens the door to system issues, resource gaps, process problems, or collaboration challenges you might not see from your position.

A junior designer answered after thinking, "I need your feedback by Wednesday, not Friday afternoon. By Friday I've moved on mentally, so implementing changes feels like going backward."

Simple timing fix. Massive quality impact. I had no idea my feedback timing was creating that problem.

This shifts from evaluation to partnership. You're not the judge here, but offering up as a resource instead. Sometimes they need the authority you have. Sometimes they need you to have a difficult conversation with another stakeholder. Sometimes they need you to stop creating barriers through your own behavior.

One colleague said, "Stop cc'ing my manager on every project update. It makes me second-guess everything I write because I feel like everything's being evaluated."

I didn't realise my attempt at transparency was creating paralysis.

These aren't magic scripts. They're genuine questions rooted in curiosity that assume capability. The words matter less than the actual curiosity behind them. If you're asking while internally judging, people will feel that immediately.

What you can do right now: Write all three questions down. Then customise each one by adding one specific detail from your actual situation to make it concrete, not generic. For example, "What's making this project timeline harder than it should be?" or "What's making client communication harder than it should be?"

The hardest part of real feedback? Genuinely remaining silent when every instinct screams at you to jump in and help. I'm naturally a problem-solver. For years, I thought rapid solutions made me a good leader. I was wrong.

When I'd offer solutions after thirty seconds, sometimes interrupting mid-explanation because I'd already identified the "obvious" fix, people would politely agree, thank me, and leave. Nothing would change because it wasn't their idea. They had zero ownership. Compliance never creates lasting change.

Now I force myself to listen for at least five minutes before saying anything beyond "tell me more" or "what else is contributing to this." It's uncomfortable. My brain screams with ideas. I want to jump in and fix things. But when I stay quiet, something interesting happens. They solve it themselves.

Six or seven minutes in, people often pause and say, "Now that I'm saying this out loud, I think I know what I need to try first." They've talked themselves into their own solution, which means they'll implement it. Self-determination theory research shows that people are more likely to commit to changes they generate themselves than to those prescribed by authorities. Your job isn't to have the answer ready. It's to create space for them to find theirs.

As an introvert practicing silent leadership, this is your advantage. You're comfortable with silence. You notice patterns others miss. You don't need to dominate the conversation to lead effectively.

The best feedback conversations I've had? I talk 25 to 30 percent of the time. I ask questions, listen, reflect on what I'm hearing, and ask what they want to try. That's it.

Bonus: These conversations require dramatically less emotional energy than performing scripted sessions. You're being yourself, which is always less draining.

Pick one person whose feedback feels most urgent, or with whom you've been avoiding the conversation the longest.

Monday: Complete the entire preparation. Send the meeting invite with honest framing. "I want to understand what's making this specific situation hard. Can we talk?" Write your three customised questions. Block 30 minutes of recovery time immediately after the conversation. Don't skip this preparation. It makes everything else possible.

Tuesday through Friday: Have the conversation. Use your three questions. Take detailed notes on what they say, not what you planned to say. Pay attention to moments when you want to interrupt or solve. Those are your growth edges. Notice how the energy feels different when you're genuine rather than performing.

This weekend: Take 15 minutes to reflect. Did they own the solution more because it came from them? Did the conversation require less emotional energy because you were being authentic? What surprised you about what they said versus what you assumed the problem was?

Capture your observations whilst they're fresh. Over time, these reflections will show you patterns in what works for your specific leadership style and team dynamics.

How to handle conflict without avoiding or exploding.

Real strategies for introverts who hate confrontation but need to address problems directly.

You don't need perfect scripts to give feedback that changes behavior. You need genuine curiosity, patient listening, and the humility to partner rather than prescribe.

The best feedback feels like solving a shared problem, not issuing orders. That's the major difference. Less of a performance, and more of a presence. Less pretending, more authenticity.

As an introvert, your natural strengths of listening, observation, and thoughtful silence work better than forcing an exhausting performance that drains you completely.

Try it this week. Ask one real question. Listen twice as long as usual. Notice what changes when you stop performing and start being present.

In your corner,
— Steven

P.S. Forward this to any leader who's tired of feedback conversations that drain them emotionally while producing zero actual behavior change.

P.P.S. Tired of workdays that empty your tank? Download the FREE Daily Success Toolkit that's helped thousands of introverts lead well, without changing who you are.