Yes Butter
How being fined can pay it forward
When my sister joined us in Spain last month, she and I did a fair amount of reciprocal coaching. While she found practical ways to help me get started on my memoirs, my next big writing project, I helped her find fresh ways to position her storytelling business.
I quickly noted that a lot of my suggestions had to fight their way past a wall of yes buts. As in, “Yes, but I don’t think…” “Yes, but the problem with that is…” “Yes, but in France (where she lives) people don’t…”
I finally said that if she didn’t stop greeting my suggestions with but (the yes in such framing is always superfluous), I was going to start imposing fines on her.
She looked startled. “What? You mean pay you money?”
Cheesy as it may sound, fining is an effective coaching technique for people who can’t break free of habitual responses. Marshall Goldsmith uses it routinely. Of course, the idea is not for the coach to make additional money, but rather to exact a financial penalty from a client who can’t let go of unhelpful behaviors. And to put that money toward some worthy cause.
I’d never levied a fine on anyone I worked with until the winter of 2018. That’s when saw first-hand how effective it could be. And, though it sounds counter-intuitive, how positive.
I was delivering an afternoon workshop for a financial services company just outside of Boston for about 50 senior women, with a few men sprinkled among them. The client had set my program up in an informal space in a quiet part of the building where people could help themselves to coffee and snacks.
The HR leader who was hosting the program met me downstairs at the front door when I arrived by cab. “I’m sorry if you had a hard time finding our offices,” she said. “By the way, I’m Sophie.”
“Good to meet you,” I responded. “I had no trouble finding your offices at all.”
Inside the building, Sophie accompanied me to the sign-in desk. “I’m sorry you have to go through this,” she said, though of course showing ID and awaiting a visitor badge had been standard practice in office buildings since the fall of 2001.
Sophie was warm and solicitous, but her stream of apologies continued unabated as participants began to join us in the space she had set up. “I’m sorry if this coffee is not hot enough for you,” was the last straw.
“Did you make the coffee?” I asked.
“No.”
“Do you have control over its temperature?
“No.”
“Then how exactly is this on you?”
She looked embarrassed. “I know,” she said, “I have a terrible habit of apologizing too much. I’m trying to work on it.”
“Maybe I can help,” I offered. “I know I’m not your coach, but I am here to help female leaders reach their full potential. And constantly apologizing doesn’t make anyone look strong or secure. So if you don’t mind, I will quietly cue you every time I hear you apologize for something that’s not your fault or is unimportant. Being reminded is usually the first step to breaking a habit.”
Sophie agreed and over the next half hour I caught her apologizing repeatedly. Cuing her seemed to frustrate her and didn’t change things. Also, our program was starting and I didn’t want to distract her with even subtle cues. So I asked myself, What would Marshall do?
The answer was obvious.
I told Sophie that I was no longer going to cue her, but I would be noticing whenever she apologized unnecessarily. I would keep track and I would fine her $10 for each apology, in hopes that this would help her going forward.
I also assured her that I’d find a positive and generous use for the money.
At the end of the day, I informed Sophie that she owed me $50. As she counted out the bills, she said she’d learned an unforgettable lesson. “I’m going to ask a friend I work with if she will fine me when I apologize. I need help if I’m really going to stop.”
In my cab back to Boston, I considered the various charities that might benefit from the $50 of Sophie’s now in my wallet. But the frustrations of heavy traffic as we approached the city suggested a different approach. I paid the $45 cab ride with my business credit card, then handed the $50 in cash to the surprised driver, telling him that I was grateful for his patience and his skill.
Two months later, I got a note from Sophie who reported that the fines she was paying her colleague were now diminishing every week. “Seeing an actual figure attached to my apologies has made me more accountable. I’m making progress, so thank you.”
My sister also told me that, as a result of our time in Spain, she felt she was becoming less of a yes-butter. She was also using the fining technique with a friend who was in the habit of asking for advice but then immediately objecting to every suggestion.
Fining sounds mercenary and transactional. It seemed that way to me when Marshall first told me about his practice. But seeing how effective it can be– and how much happiness you can spread by giving away the extra money– has made me a firm believer in this innovative way of paying it forward.
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