Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot on unintentional behavior and how it shows up in our lives. You know, those moments when you say or do something, thinking you’re being completely harmless, only to realize later that it was received in a way you never intended. 

A classic example is unintentional sexism or racism — like using phrases we don’t fully understand, such as the “grandfather clause.” To someone unaware of its origins, the term might seem harmless. However, it’s rooted in racist policies designed to disenfranchise African Americans after the Civil War. When we use such phrases without understanding their implications, we unintentionally perpetuate harmful ideas. 

And here’s the thing: if you’re unaware of the impact, you can’t make a conscious choice to change it.

So, what do you do when you become aware of something like this? You’ve got two options. You can either get defensive, brush it off, and say, “That’s not what I meant!” Or, you can acknowledge the impact it had, even if it wasn’t your intention, and commit to doing better. 

I lean towards the latter. It’s about being open to learning and growing, without judgment or defensiveness. Taking this approach will get you so much farther than defensiveness. Trust me, I have ample personal evidence of just how ineffective the former option is.

This idea of unintentional behavior — and its consequences — came up in a recent conversation with a client. They’d hired a new team member to join their working group of three that had been collaborating closely together for over eight years. These three were so in sync they could practically read each other’s minds and finish one another’s sentences. 

But the new hire didn’t last, and when I asked why, the answer was revealing. The new person felt like they were always on the outside, like they could never break into this tight-knit group. It felt cliquish. And they felt excluded. Ouch.

Now, I know that wasn’t the intention of the original team members. They weren’t trying to be exclusionary; it just happened. But when I asked my client to reflect on the situation, he had an “aha” moment. He realized that, yes, there were things they did — ways they communicated, habits they had — that unintentionally made the new hire feel excluded.

That’s the tricky part of unintentional behavior. It’s invisible until someone points it out or until we take a step back and really examine our actions. It’s not enough to say, “Well, that wasn’t what I meant.” We’ve got to dig deeper, recognize these unintentional patterns, and then make conscious choices to change them.

In situations like this, it can be helpful to ask better questions than perhaps you have before. And check in on your transparency and accountability.

This is a powerful part of leadership. It’s about being honest with yourself about the current state of your leadership. It’s about having the courage to look at the unintentional ways we might be undermining our teams, cutting people short, or making them feel less than stellar — without even realizing it. It’s easy to think, “I’m doing everything right,” but if our teams are frustrated or disengaged, we’ve got to ask ourselves, “What’s my role in that?”

The truth is, as leaders, we set the tone. If we’re willing to own our unintentional behavior, it creates space for others to do the same. It’s not about taking all the blame, but about leading with honesty, clarity, and a willingness to grow. That’s how we build stronger, more connected teams.

 

Photo by Michiel van Kaam on Unsplash