How to Move From Victimhood to Agency in Leadership and Life with Shawn Quinn

Ashish Kothari:

Sean, welcome to the Happiness Squad. It is such a joy to chat with you, my dear friend.

Shawn Quinn:

Well, it's a pleasure to be here. As we were already talking before we got started, I love the work you do. I love the work I do. It’s always just fun to be around someone who's full of life.

Ashish Kothari:

Yeah. Sean, look, you are one of the leading voices in this whole field of positive leadership, this vision around creating leaders that create positively deviant performance for organizations.

I would love to start by having you share some pivotal moments in your life, and figures in your life, that have shaped you into who you are today—and your passion for human flourishing and positive leadership.

Shawn Quinn:

Yeah. Well, there’s a lot that comes to mind, but let me just share a few here.

The one I’d like to share is probably the best story that frames what I talk about as my life purpose.

When I entered the K–12 system, it didn’t take me very long to realize I didn’t fit very well. I struggled. I didn’t know at the time, but I had slight dyslexia for just a short period, along with other learning disorders. People would laugh at me when I tried to read. As I went through K–12, it probably hurt my self-esteem more than it built it.

Not that I wasn’t learning and growing, but I struggled. I slept through high school. No teacher ever questioned it, because I wasn’t causing problems. Better to have someone sleeping than causing problems. So I got through that experience, but it left a mark.

Years later, I went on a mission for my church, which helped me learn discipline and important life lessons. Through discipline, I started to get my grades up. I met Lisa Quinn in a class. We got married and finished at the University of Utah.

Another important piece: on our honeymoon, we kept getting in fights because we were playing Scrabble. We were both too competitive. So we had to figure out how to play games without getting frustrated with each other. I didn’t learn from that, because I decided to take a class with her. We were competitive again about grades.

I happened to work at a self-storage facility where I had a lot of downtime to study, so I studied more than Lisa. For a test, I had probably studied four times as much as she had. But when we took the multiple-choice test, she got an A and I got a B+.

I was upset. On the way back to the car, I was whining and complaining how unfair the system was. I said if the teacher just sat down and had a conversation, she’d see that I knew more information because I studied more. I was ranting about the whole education system.

When we reached the car, Lisa walked ahead, opened the door, turned around, and said, “You know what, Sean? That’s the way the system is. So either change it or learn how to be happy in it.” Then she got in and slammed the door.

I knew she wasn’t wrong logically, but emotionally I hated it. She held up a mirror to me and said, “You’re a victim.” And she wasn’t wrong. For two weeks, that’s all I could think about.

One morning I woke up and said to myself, “I’ll never be a victim again. I’ll either change the system I’m in, leave the system, or create a world within it in which I can be happy. But I will not just be a reactor—I’ll be a creator of that world.”

What I didn’t know is that as I got into organizations, I’d meet managers, leaders, and frontline people who were also victims. They had legitimate reasons why—because of a boss, an event, or a system. They wouldn’t call it victimhood, but they felt powerless.

And I thought, if I could be released from being a victim, maybe I could help release others. No judgment—because there are legitimate things in our systems that create what we have.

So one key thing: my life purpose is to inspire introspection that sets people free. That experience with Lisa was one example that led to my purpose.

It also shaped my desire to help individuals flourish, and to help change the systems they live and work in so those systems are better for people to flourish.

That’s one story.

Ashish Kothari:

I love that, Sean. As I think about it, it reflects so many things back to me. Truths that shake us to our core are brutal, but they’re the ones that change us. I’m amazed at the relationship you and your wife have—for her to be able to say that, and for you to eventually receive it.

That invitation you gave yourself really resonates with me. It’s why we do the work we do, right?

Stop being a victim. Either change the system, leave the system, or learn to be happy in it.

So many coaches and leadership practitioners, once they realize this, end up leaving the system. Many leave and say, “I’m good, I’ll live my life my own way.” Many others, after years of fighting, get to a place financially where they have the luxury to leave and beat their own drum.

What got me excited about Happiness Squad, and why we do what we do, is that the choice of leaving the system is not available to 60–70% of people. When you look at organizations, our ways of working are broken. Only 20% of people are thriving at work.

The grass may look greener on the other side, but if you go there, you’ll find the same system—and the same you. So what became important for me is: how do we upscale people to change the system? And more importantly, how do we take the system head on?

Because at the heart of the mental health crisis is the fact that, for many, the choice to leave doesn’t exist. Rather than numbing their way through a broken system, let’s solve the problem at its core.

It’s not meditation apps or therapy at the periphery that will solve the mental health challenge. It’s the 80%—how work gets done, and how people are taught to lead and drive results.

Shawn Quinn:

Yeah, I think that’s right. Look, I should add a few caveats. I know people who have been in abusive relationships, so I could imagine someone like that hearing us say, “Change the system. Leave the system.” It’s tricky. And while that’s outside organizational life, there are also situations with abusive bosses and dynamics where this could sound overly simplistic. I think that’s fair.

What it means to take ownership of your life can start with very small things and then grow larger. Even for myself, even knowing this and working on it, there are still parts of my life that feel like I’m in a box. I see limits to what I can do, whether it’s trying to influence others or otherwise.

But then I have an experience, like when Lisa held up a mirror to me, and I see the world differently. I try new things. It’s not like suddenly the whole world is my oyster, but the box gets bigger. I realize there’s more room to try a little more, to take a little more ownership.

As I’ve watched myself, it’s been a journey of small moments that opened my mindset to see greater capacity. There’s adult learning and development—different people are at different places. To expect someone to instantly jump into being proactive and creative is tough.

But what do we need to do to help them start that journey? To recognize and see things differently so that, over time, they develop greater capacity? There are times when leaving is the right choice, but we need to be careful not to fool ourselves.

My dad, Bob Quinn—world-renowned in transformational leadership and one of the founders of the Center for Positive Organizations—wrote a book called Deep Change. In it, he talked about how people will leave to go to another organization, only to slowly find the same problems they had before.

He compared it to people who’ve been married three or four times. By the third or fourth marriage, they realize they’re facing the same problems as before. The common denominator? Themselves.

If I’m not careful, as I keep looking for something better without examining my role, I’ll just keep creating the same realities and blaming others. So the question is: what can we do to recognize our role in the systems we’re part of? Maybe I can’t change the whole culture right away, but I can probably do more than I realize.

Let me share a story. My older brother Ryan, in his executive MBA at the University of Louisville in Kentucky, had a course where students had to take the “fundamental state of leadership” framework and apply it weekly. It forces deep reflection.

One classmate had just started a new role at a manufactured home company. He quickly discovered it was a poisonous culture—if someone asked for help, they’d get yelled at.

He went home ready to quit after just a week. But he reflected on a question from a previous leader: “What can you control?” He realized that when someone asked for help, there was always a pause before a manager came over to yell. He decided that next time, he would sprint over, ask questions, and try to help before the manager could intervene.

He did it the next day. The manager, caught off guard, didn’t yell. Instead, they listened and added constructive suggestions. So he kept doing it every day. Slowly, people reacted differently. He also noticed a lot of swearing, which made the environment unprofessional. He chose not to swear and asked others to be more professional around him.

Over time, these small actions created change. Within months, the climate shifted. Within a year, the culture transformed. The plant went from middling to one of the highest-performing plants in the company. This was someone on the front line—not the manager, not the plant leader—but someone who simply led.

These bigger changes don’t always happen that fast, but I share this because we have more capacity than we think.

Ashish Kothari:

I am so behind that idea, Sean. Oftentimes people say, “The CEO needs to change. It’s the executive leadership. Unless they change, nothing is possible.” But I’m on the same page as you—there is so much that’s possible all the way through the organization.

Martin Seligman called it learned helplessness. I think we’re in a mass delusion, a state of learned helplessness: “I’m too low. I can’t make a difference.” And I’ve seen it at every level—SVP, VP, director, manager, frontline.

When we look at research around wellbeing and burnout, here’s what we find: the job and team-level interventions—demands and enablers—account for close to 70–80% of the drivers of wellbeing and prevention of burnout. The organizational layer at the very top accounts for only around 10%. Individual factors account for about 27% of wellbeing, and just 3% of burnout.

So if you look at it, 60–70% of wellbeing and 80% of burnout prevention are in the hands of what happens at the job and team level. That means even as an individual team member, or as a manager of four, or thirty, or a plant, or a location—you have power.

That’s why I love your brother’s story. Change is possible. But it requires a perspective shift: stop seeing yourself as a victim, start seeing yourself as an agent. Instead of waiting for the system to change, ask, “What’s the change I can become?” Through that, we start to shift behaviors and create real impact. So , I love that story of your brother.

Shawn Quinn:

And I can hear the voice of Jane Dutton saying, “We need to create systems. It’s not fair that people are put in these bad environments.” And that’s true. But it doesn’t change the fact that when people are there, they still face a choice. Do they try to influence change?

Hopefully, we can create systems where people thrive and it’s easier to be agents. But that’s not always the case. And we also need to be empathetic to senior leaders. They announce strategies and call for change, but then the culture resists.

They don’t see how their own behavior reinforces the old way. So middle managers and others say, “They don’t really want change. If they’re not going to change, how can I?”

I often pause and ask: do you really think they don’t want the change? They spend countless hours building the strategy. Of course they want it. But it’s as scary for them to change as it is for you.

Leadership is about courage, not position. It’s about who will move us toward the future we know we need, even when it feels risky. And it always feels risky—at the frontline, or at the top with shareholders, financial commitments, and social pressures.

So instead of being frustrated with leaders, I try to be empathetic. What’s meaningful enough to me that I’m willing to take the risk to step outside the norm? What can I do to create a better experience for my team, to spark the right conversations, to model the future we claim we want?

Even well-intentioned people unconsciously try to pull you back into old norms. They’re not bad people—they’re human. But leaders at any level can step out long enough to create new norms.

And at first, keep it small. If you’re at the bottom, don’t try to make huge changes overnight. Do what that plant worker did—change two or three small things you can control. Those ripples can eventually create waves that transform the whole system.

Ashish Kothari:

Yeah, I had a set of questions for us, but I really want to pull on this thread. This is such an important thread—the shift from victim to agent, and being courageous, being a leader. Whether you’re in a leadership role or not, it’s about leading through your actions, being courageous long enough to take a step out.

No matter how small—whether it’s a one-inch step forward, a one-foot step forward—do what’s possible and learn from it. That’s one of the core parts of your model: become aware, do a small experiment, reflect on it, become aware again. Small cycles of change compounds. One percent a day can lead to a massive impact in a year, both individually and in the system.

As I was preparing for this, you sent me an article around one such story of change, which again wasn’t from the top but from an HR manager in Mexico who decided to lead differently to fix one of the most common issues in manufacturing sites—attrition.

Could you share that story, Sean? The program they went through with you, and what became possible? How did that system actually change, and how did that person make it happen?

Shawn Quinn:

Well, let me go back because you kind of mentioned the cycle, and how we got into setting up the program the way we did. Then I can focus totally on Edgar specifically.

For the first time, this was a tier-one auto supply company, based in a different country, but I was working with the North American group, which has forty-some-thousand employees in and of itself. I was brought in for these high potentials. There were two levels, and they would work with them over fifteen months. It was two days, two days, two days, two days, with a presentation at the end and group work throughout.

I was brought in for the first time because they had engineers leaving—not just the random one-off—but at a level where they said, “Something’s different. We’ve got to do something.”

The person over organization development and some of the leadership development work, who was familiar with some of my work and some of my colleagues’ work, asked if I’d come in. I ran one of the two-day workshops across the series, and they saw really good impact from it. So they said, “Can you do another?” and they gave me a second.

In between, I asked them to experiment and come back ready to share what they tried. The impact again was so positive that they said, “We need more real change right now.” I had won enough trust that they said, “We’re going to give you the whole HIPO program, except for one of the two days. There’s one vendor we want to keep because she does great work.”

I said, “That’s great. Are you open to me helping you rethink this thing?” And he said he was.

So I said, “Look, no more group projects.” I’m not saying there isn’t good learning that can happen, but in my experience some of the problems are: one, it feels like we’re just redoing the work of another group; or two, we have this senior sponsor and it becomes about performing and making them happy, not about learning. It’s not the learning journey.

Bruce Avolio did some work I was familiar with, and eventually colleagues at Michigan—Sue Ashford and others—did related work. Avolio says leader development instead of leadership development, because his belief is that it’s about you as a person changing. Leadership development can get into skills and tools, which is important, but it’s not enough.

I believe that if I don’t help shift your starting beliefs or assumptions, we can give you a great tool, but under pressure you’ll just revert back.

Ashish Kothari:

 Absolutely.

Shawn Quinn:

The example I often give: I was working in the UK with a company. A leader who had moved from the president of one division to the CEO was big on StrengthsFinder. So all the managers and their people rolled it out. But it wasn’t going as well as they thought.

I came in for different reasons, but we had this conversation. I said, “Let me take a guess. StrengthsFinder has a set of assumptions behind why you focus on strengths. Here’s my guess for why it’s not working: you’ve got managers who do the StrengthsFinder with their people. The people think it’s cool, they’re learning about each other’s strengths. Then every other day of the week, the manager’s looking for what’s wrong and focusing on what’s broken. The employees can’t even name why, they just know it doesn’t feel aligned and that their manager doesn’t actually believe in StrengthsFinder.”

They looked at me and said, “Oh yeah.”

And I said, “Where was the space to help the managers explore what it even means to focus on strengths? What fundamental beliefs do you have to hold? How do we help them work through whether they even want to believe in that?”

Now, coming back—Avolio says, as the teacher, whether it’s a book, a podcast, or a workshop, my job is to build enough belief that someone is willing to try something different. It doesn’t mean they fully believe it yet, but they believe enough because you gave them an experience.

That’s why you can’t just talk to people. Yes, I need to explain the data, but I also have to give experiences that help them think, “This might make me uncomfortable, but maybe there’s something to it. Maybe I’ll try an experiment.”

When I try the experiment, it gives me a new experience. But here’s the huge part we often miss: reflecting on the experience. We live in a world of phones and everything else where many never take time to reflect.

If I can build that cycle of learning—belief, experiment, reflection—then change happens.

So I told them: no more team projects. Our goal each time is to build enough belief that they take their day-to-day work—not create extra work—but tweak how they’re doing it. Try it a little differently and see if they get a different outcome. If it works, try again. If not, tweak it again.

Just because you know the principle doesn’t mean it works the same way everywhere. You have to keep experimenting until you figure out how it applies in your environment. That’s the journey.

And oh, by the way—you’re going to write a story at the end. They all said, “I’m an engineer. I don’t write stories.” I told them, “It doesn’t matter how good the story is. The process of writing it is what causes deep reflection on your experiences. If you don’t experiment along the way, you won’t have an interesting story to tell.”

Ashish Kothari:

You’re not going to have a story.

Shawn Quinn:

You need it when all the leaders come in at the end. You’re not going to be excited unless there’s something real to share. So we have to still build this accountability—that there’s going to be this reading at the end.

Between sessions, you’re going to get into small group calls. That gives you the chance to ask each other questions. One, to hold accountable. Two, to help each other reflect on your experiences. Three, so I can see what others are doing. Because I might not have thought of that experiment, but when they influenced the expat in that way, which I didn’t even think was possible, now my mind has to be open to maybe it is possible.

So now that gives you some background. There’s more we could talk about. We built this journey. I believe in leadership journeys. It costs more money, but the ROI is so much more significant. It’s worth it.

And so here’s Edgar. In his words, he would tell you, “I only showed up because I thought if I went through the program, I’m more likely to get promoted to the next level. What are these two scrawny white guys going to teach me?”

But he went through the first two days and thought, this is different than what our company usually puts us through. So he was a little intrigued. He decided, okay, I’ll go try some stuff.

Between sessions, my colleague sent out an assignment. Edgar didn’t get the purpose of it. To him, it seemed silly and stupid. He said, “I’m not going to do the assignment.”

When he came back and everyone else was sharing what they tried and what their experience was, he said, “I didn’t understand the purpose of it, so I didn’t do it.” My initial reaction was, that’s weak. Too bad he didn’t do that. I thought he wouldn’t gain learning from that experience.

What I later realized was in this culture, in this organization, you are told what to do. Leaders do the work of their people because you don’t let people fail in this organization. For him, my colleague and I—the power figures, the leaders of this journey—he was pushing back because he didn’t understand the purpose. He said, “I’m not going to do something just because you tell me if I don’t understand the purpose.”

That was actually an experiment for him, and we didn’t fully realize it yet. That was good because he was pushing back on power figures, saying, “No, I’m not going to do it just to do it.” There are a lot of things he experiences that they just do that don’t make sense in the business. So that was good.

We can’t change anyone, but we can create an environment. We created these experiences. We were inviting experimentation, and if nothing else, it forced him to be more conscious. Because I have to run an experiment—or they’ve asked me to do this—am I going to do it or not? Why am I not going to do it? What am I going to say to them? So he was now pushing back on power figures.

Then he had an experiment with a direct report he didn’t think was very good. He said, “Look, I want to give you a real shot here. I probably am not treating you as well as I could. Here’s what we need help with. Here’s my initial thinking, but I need you to take it and run with it.”

A week later they came back for a check-in. The employee basically regurgitated what Edgar had said. Edgar said, “You didn’t do any work. You’re just telling me what I already told you.”

The employee said, “Edgar, if I went and did the work, you’d turn it back into what you already think is right.”

Edgar got upset and frustrated. He went out to take a smoke break. While processing this, he told a colleague who was also out smoking. She said, “Edgar, we all know that about you. We all know we’ve got to do it your way or you’re not going to be happy.”

Now Edgar’s world was getting blown up. He went home and told his wife. She looked at him and, in a more gentle way, said, “Yeah, that’s how you are at home.”

He was horrified. He said, “I’m so sorry. I know a lot of leaders in my company are that way. I didn’t want to be that way.” She said, “We just thought that’s what you learned you need to do to be successful, so we’ve tried to be supportive of you.”

Now, he wouldn’t have been open to this before, but because he was running experiments, he was open. That employee pushed back. His peer confirmed it. His wife confirmed it. There’s no guarantee—we can’t create any of this—but we can create an increased likelihood of openness by doing the experiments and reflecting.

So Edgar said, “I don’t want to be that way.” He showed up and told his team, “I’m sorry. This is what I experienced. I don’t want to be that way.”

He also said, “We’ve got a problem. We’re losing 220 people in the plant every month. It’s not okay. We keep doing exit interviews, and we’re not getting any better. So let’s ask a different question. Let’s talk to the people who are staying. Why are they staying?”

Based on positive leadership principles, he sent his team out to ask those questions. Then he said, “Take what you’ve learned and create new ideas. Be creative. I’m not telling you what to do. Run some experiments.”

Now, the plant manager and the expat resisted. They said, “Just do things the way we’ve been doing them.”

Edgar said, “You paid me to be a manager of HR, not a follower who does everything I’m told when it’s not working. So we’re going to try new things.”

They didn’t know what to do, because you don’t do that in this organization. They just said, “Okay.” Edgar thought, if it doesn’t work and they fire me, so be it. But I’m not going to stay in this cycle of doing things that aren’t helping.

So he started to give his people autonomy. They experimented. They learned from why people were staying. They thought differently. He kept bringing back new ideas.

By the end of the year and a half he was with us, they reduced turnover from 220 down to 60 per month. That translated into millions of dollars in savings.

Most importantly, Edgar’s son got to choose which movie the family watched. His wife told him, “My Edgar’s back.” The family was thriving. His people were thriving. And the bottom line was better.

Because he went on this journey of transformation, he saw how he needed to challenge his assumptions. He started trying new things. Soon, he believed empowerment was better. He learned to push back at times—not just to be difficult, but when things weren’t working. He could list all the things he believed differently. Yes, he developed skills, but more importantly, he believed differently—and that’s sustainable.

Ashish Kothari:

Thank you for that journey, that story. And it just resonates so deeply, Sean, with my experiences. And hopefully it’s going to resonate with listeners and also highlight how different this is than what most people experience.

I say that some of the most common practices in place completely defy all logic, and yet we keep doing them.

What I loved about that story were three things that you highlighted.

First, we have to stop thinking about training and start thinking about transformations. That’s at the heart of what we do at Happiness Squad. That’s what I want to do. Stop doing training. Stop bringing people in and talking at them for two days, and then sending them out and not holding them accountable for change.

Because you haven’t changed their beliefs. You’ve just taught them a bunch of skills. That’s why you don’t want to measure and hold people accountable. Or maybe you have a belief that my job is to give them the best trainers and their job is to change. So I’m not going to—why am I going to measure it?

So number first was, I love the story of journeys. Journeys are critical because transformations are very unique and individual. The pace of your change, how many steps forward and step back you might take, what your first step might look like.

In the case of Edgar, he chose not to do the assignment that was given. For many people you’d say, “You failed. You’re not a good student. You’re not doing what you’re meant to be doing.” But that was actually, as you reflected, his first experiment—knowing or unknowingly, that was what he was exercising, which then propelled him for all the other big impacts that he had.

So, transformations not training—I think that was really powerful.

I also loved what you just said about beliefs. Fundamentally, it was actually helping him really face his belief of how he had been operating versus not, and choose to start doing something differently.

Because without that—when he changed that—it didn’t just change his work. The impact was a full 360 degrees of performance, how you show up, the impact on your colleagues, the impact on your family.

There were two stats that were so powerful for me, and there are these two research pieces.

The first one showed that you as a boss have more impact on the mental health of your employees than a therapist.

The second was how you feel at work has a direct impact on the growth, development, and success of your children—because you are being shaped and you show up that way at home.

And so I think this work is needed if we want to make better humans and create a better world. This work of helping people become more positive leaders from the inside out, not outside in, is so powerful.

And that story you highlighted—yes, performance shows up. You go from 220 attrition to 60 attrition. All of that happens. But it’s not going to happen the way they had been going about it before, which is to talk to people who are leaving, find out what the issue is, and go fix it. Even that pivot was so powerful.

Shawn Quinn:

As you’re talking, it triggers a couple of important pieces that I just want to reinforce. We can’t force someone to change. You’ve got to invite them on a journey.

Upfront, some people’s big experiment was simply starting a meeting by sharing what they were grateful for. You would think this was simple, but people described sweating before trying it because it was so outside the norm for them.

In the beginning, leaders often try little things that others might dismiss as insignificant. But it’s the act of becoming uncomfortable and running those experiments that builds their capacity to try bigger things later. By the end, some were pushing back on their bosses and trying much larger experiments that led to significant impact.

You also hit on another piece—you can’t control when the change moment happens. One participant came to the story-writing day of the program and realized, “I haven’t done anything significant. I haven’t really changed.” We could have been frustrated, but instead we explored why. It bothered him.

In the following two months, he went out and tried huge things. Within two months, he was a new person. But he needed to go through that stage of doing nothing, to realize he had wasted time and energy, to trigger his big change. We can’t control the timing. Organizations want to pretend they can, but what we can do is design journeys that increase the likelihood of change.

Another point—we have to talk about positive deviance. Every system has norms. Those norms help us, and they also get in our way. Just like beliefs inside of each of us, shaped by our experiences. They help us and they get in our way. I still hold some beliefs and assumptions that limit me, because I still sometimes do things that aren’t helping.

One story I like to tell: I was working with a manager. The therapy side would say family behaviors are cyclical. Management behaviors are cyclical. We repeat what we know. For good or bad, we replicate what our parents did, and the same is true of our first managers.

One participant came to the program, learned some things, went away to apply them, and came back to a follow-up day. He said, “As a manager, I’m—” he softened it, but essentially, “I’m a bit of a jerk.” I said, “Well, acceptance is the first step. That’s good.”

He said, “I don’t want to be that way. I’m just behaving the way my managers did before me. So I tried some of what you taught around positive leadership.” I asked what happened. He said, “My people started making jokes and teasing me, trying to get me to act like a jerk again.”

I couldn’t believe it. These people had complained for three years about their manager being a jerk, and the minute he tried to change, they teased him and pushed him back to his old behavior.

Why? Some might say they didn’t trust it, that they didn’t believe it was real. Maybe. But the bigger reason is that the minute he acted differently, it meant they had to react differently. They knew how to deal with him as a jerk. They didn’t know how to deal with the new behavior.

How often are we creating the very reality we complain about—because we’re comfortable in it?

This manager realized he was replicating the jerks he had worked for, and he didn’t want to be that way. He tried to change, but his people tried to pull him back to normal. I told him, “You have a choice. Do you believe enough in this to stay with it until they learn to create a new normal with you?”

Later, they would be grateful for it, but in the beginning, they complained—even though they had been complaining that they wanted him to change. That’s the paradox of leadership.

Leadership requires clarity—understanding what’s really happening—so you can step outside the norms, run experiments, and stay with it long enough to create a new normal. Otherwise, the pressure from above, below, and across will pull you back. That’s why leadership is so hard.

We have to help people go on journeys that build their capacity to stay outside the norms long enough to create better climates, and eventually, cultures that deliver on the outcomes we say we want.

Ashish Kothari:

Yeah, Sean, we could talk for hours. In fact, I’d love to find more time with you, maybe for another episode, because we didn’t even get to so many questions.

As we look at the clock and bring this one to a close, we’ve touched on so many powerful themes.

We talked about agency versus victimhood. We talked about transformations versus training. We talked about the power of beliefs and how they shape us. We talked about how, when we try to change, the system pushes back because people don’t know how to operate with a different kind of leader.

We talked about the power of small experiments, gradually increasing capacity and expanding the box we live in. We talked about the power of reflection.

For anyone listening who’s thinking, “Wow, there’s a lot here,” the question is: what’s the smallest experiment I can start with? If they’ve been convinced there is change possible, that they have more control than they realize, what’s the smallest experiment you’d recommend our listeners try before they get to the next one and start to debrief?

Shawn Quinn:

Yeah. For many, I talk about that cycle and the third part of reflection. For many, just reflecting on their own experiences would itself be an experiment—and a hard one.

That might start with something simple, like thinking through your meetings that week. When was there good energy? When was there low energy? Why was there low energy? What did you do? What did others do? Was there conflict between two people? How did you handle that?

If you just pay attention—spend ten minutes at the end of the day—you don’t have to spend hours. Just reflect: Why did I feel that way? Why did the team feel that way? What happened? Then ask yourself: What’s one thing I could try differently next time with that group of people?

For me, I actually treat people really well, but I’m scared to have hard conversations. So how can I prepare myself to go try one hard conversation, then reflect and decide how I could do it better next time?

For someone else, they may be too blunt. They’re good at telling the truth but not very sensitive. Do they believe in their people? Maybe for them, an experiment is focusing on what those people do right. There’s a five-to-one ratio. Can I focus on what they’re doing well for a week or two, until I can feel and see their potential, before I go have the hard conversation?

For each person, it’s going to be a little different. Whatever makes you a little uncomfortable is probably a good space to try something.

So I would say: reflect just enough to be aware. Maybe people are feeling a certain way because I’m talking too much during the meeting. It could be a hundred different things. Become a little more aware and conscious. Reflect. Then ask, what’s one thing I could try differently?

If people were willing to do that one little thing every week, imagine how different they’d be a year from now.

And if you happen to work with someone who can really build your belief and help you see things differently, it speeds things up. But even that little step of reflection is huge.

Ashish Kothari:

I love that. In our sunflower model that our listeners are familiar with, the heart of the sunflower is awareness. And that’s what you’re inviting people to do—start with awareness.

Be aware of interactions. Which ones brought you energy? Which ones drained you? What was present? What thoughts were there? Start to reflect and see patterns. Ask yourself, what’s one thing I could try differently?

If the pattern keeps showing up, meeting after meeting, what’s one moment I could try to shift? And then try that.

If you’re at a loss, write up the story of what’s happening—even your reflections—and put it in ChatGPT. Ask, “Give me five things I might try differently.” You can even refer to Shawn’s work on positive leadership and say, “Based on the work of Jane, Kim, Bob, and Shawn, what might be five experiments I could try?”

Let it come back with suggestions. If you can’t come up with something yourself, choose one and try it.

Shawn Quinn:

But try to come up with it first.

Ashish Kothari:

Yes. Cognitive laziness is the biggest evil of ChatGPT.

Shawn Quinn:

 And I get it, and I’m with you. But if you still can’t come up with something, ask someone else. And if you still can’t, then definitely go to ChatGPT.

I’m not against that. It can be a good thing, especially when it understands context. Because it can pull from a lot of sources and give you ideas. In that way, it can even be better than just asking others, because it can draw from research and give very specific things that might be helpful.

Ashish Kothari:

 Let's start with ideas. Let's start with your idea.

Shawn Quinn:

Always start. That’s my thing today with ChatGPT: always start. Just like when people say to me, “I’m not the greatest writer.” I tell them, I don’t think I am either. But I will always write it first before I let ChatGPT improve it.

I do let it improve it, but I need to write and think through: What am I really trying to say? What’s my story? So I throw that out as a caution, because I worry about what I’m seeing already.

Ashish Kothari:

That is such a great caution. I had the same conversation with my son. I told him, it’s not that I don’t want you to use it. I want you to write it first, then use it to make it better or ask, “What else would you add?”

The act of writing helps us crystallize. When we come up with the answer ourselves, we’re more likely to follow through.

Shawn Quinn:

That’s right. And greater hope comes from that.

We know from Hope Theory—and there’s been a lot added since the original Hope Theory—that if I can come up with a meaningful goal, and then what they call pathway thinking, the more ideas I come up with for how to move toward that goal, the more hope I feel.

Even if I don’t use all of them, the more hope I create, because I can see I can control and take action. That’s important. If I can learn that process—sometimes using tools to help—but if I can learn it, I become a creator of hope for myself.

I gain greater agency, which are both things we need.

Ashish Kothari:

Sean, this has been such a powerful conversation. Thank you, my friend. I’m grateful our paths came together. I’m excited to collaborate in the work we do with clients. In so many ways, I think we are kindred spirits. Thank you for being on the show. We’ll have you back soon for the second part of this conversation.

Shawn Quinn:

I would love it. I feel honored that you would invite me, and I loved every minute of it. I look forward to it.

Ashish Kothari:

Cheers. Have a great day.

Shawn Quinn:

You too. Bye.