Over the weekend, I have been putting the final touches to a talk I am giving at the BSME Annual Conference in early February, and during my reflections, I have found myself thinking more and more about discomfort. This flow of thought is unsurprising – my talk is entitled ‘5 Uncomfortable Truths for School Leaders’, and I am drawing on a range of observations and reflections to prompt school leaders to at least consider facing up to some challenges for the future – and discomfort is at the heart of this process.
Discomfort itself, however, I realise, is also arguably another challenge in its own right; discomfort is something we might have to work hard to face up to, and to embrace. Pause for a moment and reflect on what associations come flooding into your mind when you think of the word ‘comfort’; hold those thoughts and feelings, and then repeat the process with the word ‘discomfort’. If the idea of discomfort is elating, stimulating and uplifting, then you can stop reading now … if not, read on …
To the best of my understanding, discomfort – from a neurological perspective – is closely associated with how the brain responds to uncertainty, novelty and perceived threat. When we encounter situations that stretch us – cognitively, emotionally or socially – the brain’s threat-detection systems are activated, and these take us into a level of high alert, where we prioritise vigilance and efficiency over ease. This is a deeply ingrained response which is not ‘comfortable’ for us, and yet because the human brain is evolutionarily biased towards conserving energy and maintaining predictability, it is not always very keen on this discomfort, and it reminds us of this.
However – and this is the kick – research in neuroscience and psychology consistently points to the same paradox, namely that learning and development depend on precisely these moments of strain. Physical growth relies on stress and recovery; cognitive growth relies on effort, error and recalibration; emotional growth relies on tolerating ambiguity, frustration and uncertainty. Moderate levels of discomfort stimulate adaptation, strengthening neural connections and increasing capacity over time. When challenge is entirely absent, development slows; when it is overwhelming, systems shut down. Growth occurs in the space between – where discomfort is present, but still manageable.
Seen in this light, discomfort is often an indicator that we are operating at the edge of our current competence, where expansion is possible. The question, therefore, is not whether discomfort should be eliminated, but rather how we should recognise, interpret and work with it – individually and collectively.
One of the most powerful leadership lessons I learned was very early in my career as a school leader, when I was still making the transition into senior leadership – I read a short leadership booklet which listed the top ten mistakes that leaders make. Mistake no. 10, which is imprinted on my mind, was ‘seeking to make staff comfortable’, and when I read that for the first time, I remember very clearly my strong negative response, because I believed then (and still do!) in taking care of all of the people in our organisations, and this statement seemed to fly in the face of my commitment in education to creating healthy ecosystems in schools, where human beings can thrive.
As I read further, though, I came to understand entirely what the ‘mistake’ meant, because – as the author laid bare – one of the worst things we can do in an ever-changing world, and ever-changing school environment, is to keep our people comfortable and stable. When we do, we risk the organisation being less able to serve the (again, ever-changing) needs of its students and parents, and we then put at risk the future of the organisation itself – which in turn risks completely upending the lives of staff. Seeking to make staff comfortable, however well-intended, is actually the unkindest move of all. How many of us have fallen into this trap over the years?
This revelation has shaped my leadership, my coaching and all my activity since; it is out of the deepest kindness, care and love for those around me that I seek to challenge and stretch. Real care, I have absolutely realised, does not lie in smoothing every path or removing every source of tension; rather, it lies in being willing to have difficult conversations, to resist the urge to over-reassure, and to hold steady when others would prefer immediate comfort over longer-term growth. Comfort can feel like kindness in the moment; over time, however, it can actually become a subtle form of neglect. Challenge, when offered with integrity and respect, is not a withdrawal of care but an expression of it, and it is a signal that we truly believe that others are capable of more than their current habits or assumptions might suggest. And when those around us rise, we all rise.
Building discomfort into our lives is therefore incredibly important – both at a personal and organisational level. In leadership and in coaching, this often means creating spaces where uncertainty can be voiced, rawly, where complacency can be gently but firmly disrupted, and where people are invited to stretch – genuinely stretch – beyond what feels safe or familiar. Discomfort, in this sense, becomes purposeful rather than punitive; discomfort, when we embrace it, is actually a fundamental pre-requisite for learning, growth and development for us all, rather than the undesirable threat to our wellbeing that it may at first seem.
And as for what my 5 Uncomfortable Truths are … well, you will just have to wait to find out at the BSME Annual conference! In the meantime, sit with discomfort this week … and see what happens …
