When Visibility Gets Physical

Extending Interpersonal Aikido

Increasing our own visibility can be rough if we are not natural gabbers or limelight lovers. But there are ways to assert your presence through physical cues as well.

Joohan, the chief technology officer in a fast-growth San Jose start-up, was born into a Korean family that valued self-effacement and modest behavior along with deference to anyone in authority. Joohan was also quiet and introverted, in contrast to his company’s founder, Jay, a charismatic and super smart, boot-wearing Texan. Jay was a skilled promoter of the company and a force of nature who knew how to grab attention.

Despite being opposites, Joohan and Jay made a strong team— except when meeting with investors. Jay needed Joohan at these meetings so he could answer the complex technical questions that potential venture funders were always throwing Jay’s way. Yet despite Joohan’s solid expertise, his discomfort in these meetings was palpable.

He hated having the spotlight turned on him and usually responded by lowering his glance. But his hesitancy only aroused Jay’s natural impatience. Jay would refer a question to Joohan, but when he didn’t immediately respond, Jay would quickly speak over him. Accustomed to deferring to Jay as the founder and unwilling to confront him, Joohan would then simply shut down.

Joohan felt the only solution was for Jay to somehow curb his impatience. But despite repeated requests, and despite their making a hash of several venture pitches, Jay proved incapable of sitting by while Joohan struggled to speak up.

Joohan’s coach suggested that he work on his body language as a way of making his presence felt, inhabiting his physical space in a more assertive way instead of trying fruitlessly to grab verbal air time from Jay. At the time, Joohan was being treated for a back problem, so his coach suggested an unorthodox tactic. When he and Jay arrived for a pitch, Joohan would immediately announce that his chiropractor had told him he needed stand during meetings. So, while everyone settled into their places, Joohan would remain standing, focusing his attention on maintaining good posture.

The impact was immediate. Joohan describes it: “Everyone had to look up at me and somehow that made a big difference. It suddenly felt as if I had more authority than I’d had when I was sitting down. I’d always assumed my whole value was as a technical expert, but now I saw that things weren’t so simple.”

For example, the first time Jay cut Joohan off, he actually caught himself halfway through and apologized. Says Joohan: “I couldn’t believe it!  The second time, I heard myself say, ‘I’m not quite finished,’ and Jay backed right off. After a couple of meetings, Jay started standing up whenever he had something to say, but that made us seem like pop-ups in a cartoon, and he soon gave it up.” 

In fact, Jay did not need to stand to enhance his authority or visibility, but for Joohan it was a game changer. The dynamic in the room— and not incidentally his dynamic with his boss— suddenly shifted.

Joohan notes, “I  began having this image of myself as Jay’s classroom teacher, and he was this restless  little boy— charming and smart but ultimately not in control. Maybe it sounds silly, but this was good for me because it meant I was seeing Jay as a fellow human rather than as a boss who could not be contradicted. That’s so different from the hierarchical way my  family taught me to view the world.” 

Joohan’s experience taught him the value of asserting power in a physical way before trying to claim it verbally. As numerous researchers have found, assuming an authoritative stance signals our brains that we have the right to be where we are. It also cues others that we merit attention.

As Colonel Diane Ryan, whom I wrote about in August, discovered when insisting that subordinates salute her, claiming your space is the building block for commanding respect– both from others and from oneself.