Meet Wild Horses
As an executive coach, I have a particular fondness for working with difficult people. But that’s a polite way to describe them. In private, people tend to use far more colorful language! Let’s call them wild horses.
You know the ones. Their voices get louder when you disagree with them, their tone sharp and urgent, as they explain with cutting directness why you’re wrong. “Direct” is often how they describe themselves, and they can seem genuinely confused why others choose to wrap their messages in layers of polite indirection.
Sometimes they say shockingly hurtful things in meetings, almost as if they’re daring the room to speak up. They blame everyone but themselves when things don’t go their way, but they’re seldom held accountable in public. Instead it trickles out in private, via quiet, worried messages after the fact. Some sympathizing, some complaining, but all ultimately reinforcing that this behavior is tolerated. That is, until someone has the courage to speak up.
You’d think folks like this would have trouble achieving any success as leaders, but you’d be wrong! Difficult people are everywhere, in leadership and otherwise. My wife and son can testify that I am one of them! My dad was too, no surprise. But I’m a pro at skillful communication these days, and it’s deeply meaningful to me when I can help others achieve the same transformation.
Often I meet their HR counterpart first, who describes the earnest attempts to hold their difficult person accountable to the impact of their actions—usually with limited success. It’s not their fault! You can’t tame a wild horse by telling it not to be so wild.
Their Gifts
Difficult people really are like wild horses. I mean that as a compliment! They’re powerful, inspiring, wild and free—and they can hurt you if you spook them. They can be formidable allies or ferocious adversaries. They remind us how few rules there really are in life. And of the consequences when you break them too often.
I remember an up and coming product manager at my first job out of school that fit that mold. When he was excited or frustrated you could hear him from across the office—and when he was bored in meetings he’d just walk right out without a word. I guess we get away with that more now in the age of Zoom meetings. But as a 23-year-old in a literal brick and mortar conference room, watching him close his laptop and leave without warning felt shocking! His edgy behavior was not just tolerated, but rewarded. How did this guy not get fired?
Turns out he was much more than a wild horse who ran out on boring meetings. He was also passionate about his customers, knowledgeable about his product, deeply connected with his team, articulate and convincing with executives. Yes, his edgy directness helped bring attention to his ideas. But he had also acquired enough social skills to collaborate with others and make those ideas real. He knew he couldn’t achieve his goals alone.
So when I meet a wild horse at the office, I don’t try to tame them. Instead I offer to teach them a few new tricks. I help them understand the consequences of their wild ways. I support them as they learn. But I offer no pressure at all to change, because I know it would only make them run. If they’re going to change, it has to be 100% their choice.
Their Challenges
Recently I had a call with another Head of People seeking help with his wild horse problem. He was skeptical I could help, telling me, “You talk about helping leaders take more risks, but I need mine to play it much safer. Trust me, he’s already taking plenty of risks!” I told him risk is relative. Most of us are highly domesticated. We’ve spent our lives seeking approval from others, so letting go of approval is what feels most risky.
But wild horses have spent their lives seeking control of their environment, so letting go of control is what feels most risky. Maintaining control is how they play it safe, making order from chaos. So they do whatever they can to get their way—albeit generally at the cost of the collaborative relationships that matter most to them. The blame, the arguing, the harsh words and tone are all desperate attempts to grasp for control when they sense it slipping away.
You might think the costs of these controlling tendencies would be obvious. But many wild horses are blind to how their behavior isolates them and limits their influence. Often they feel entitled to getting their way, and it can be painful to accept that the world doesn’t owe them anything. It’s when they inevitably lose control that their behavior is ugliest, raising their voice and blaming others harshly.
I know anger is what shows on the surface, but underneath is sadness and fear. They feel profoundly unsafe, having lost both control of the situation and their relationships with the people who could help. Wild horses often end up lonely. But it can be hard to summon compassion for someone who’s lashing out.
Their Needs
What the wild horses in our lives often need most is to feel meaningful consequences for their actions. Feedback and even threats might not matter much to them. So what will make them pay attention? Usually it’s not threatening consequences, but following through with them. If we shield them from the consequences of their actions they may not understand the stakes until it’s too late. A key employee quits. An important customer churns. Their partner leaves them. Or they’re fired and have to start the process over at a new company. In the end, it’s kinder to help them feel the impact of these consequences early enough to do something about them.
I love coaching wild horses because I see both their strengths and their pain. They can be so courageous, so motivated, so principled. Yet their patterns can also leave them full of stress, rage, and loneliness. They’re full of energy and potential, but often squander it fighting the wrong battles. So if you can, show some appreciation for the wild horse closest to you this week. Or if their abrasive style rubs you the wrong way, show them the consequences. Either way it will be a gift.