“Look, You’re Doing It Wrong”

One “look” turns influence into resistance.

I’m not here to demonize the word look. It’s a perfectly fine word. It belongs on street signs, in desperate pep talks like “Look, the glass is half full…barely,” or as the opener to yet another misguided defense of those tequila shots at 2 a.m.

But that’s not the look I’m talking about. This is the one that slips out when you’re coaching a team, debating a strategy, or locked in on another tedious debate about the final episode of Lost. In the wrong hands (or mouths), look isn’t just another word, it’s a trigger; a prelude to the kind of smug, tone-deaf communication that shuts people down. It signals: “Brace yourself. I’m talking at you, not with you.”

If your reaction to this is, “Oh, come on,” that’s fine. This article isn’t for everyone. But let’s be clear: leadership isn’t for everyone either. If you’re willing to examine the language you toss around, even when it’s uncomfortable or inconvenient, stick with me. Because this isn’t about nitpicking words for sport. It’s about seeing the real cost of careless communication on trust, decisions, and results.

And let me tell you, for all the lip service executives pay to better communication, I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard them wave off a point about language like I just suggested they type their own emails. Sure, they want trust, collaboration, and engagement, but God forbid we dissect the five words tanking their meetings. So l let’s get into it.

Yes, there’s science to this; neuroscience, in fact.

Research shows that the human brain is hardwired to pick up on subtle social cues, especially those hinting at power plays or potential conflict. A simple Look can register as an attempt to assert control, dismiss someone’s perspective, or set the stage for a one-sided lecture.

Studies in neuroscience and conversational dynamics reveal that language framing triggers the brain’s trust and threat detection systems. When your brain senses disrespect, or even subtle impatience, you’re less likely to listen and more likely to dig in your heels, regardless of the argument’s merit.

And if your reaction to this is still, “Oh, come on,” you’re may very well be the power-player I’m talking about here. But don’t worry, it takes one to know one. What we might dismiss as trivial, is actually coming off to others as:

Even if that’s not our intent, the perception of condescension or annoyance is real. And in high-stakes conversations like resolving conflict, delivering critical feedback, or convincing a room full of skeptics, you’ve just made your job harder. Look doesn’t close the deal; it digs a hole you’ll have to climb out of first.

Alright, 5-year-old, you got me.

This is usually the part where someone swoops in with a wildly optimistic counterexample: “But what if I say, ‘Look, you’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met,’ and it totally changes the game?” Sure, if you’re starring in a rom-com or recreating that flashcard scene from Love Actually, go for it.

But in the real world, where relationships and reputations are built on how we handle stress and disagreement, Look doesn’t channel Jerry Maguire. It channels Judge Judy. And trust me, nobody’s hearts are growing three sizes when you’re waving that verbal gavel.

This isn’t about harmless phrases like, “Look, there’s the coffee shop!” It’s about moments when tone and delivery hold the power to shape outcomes, for better or worse. For instance:

• A manager says, “Look, we’ve talked about this.” The implied message? “I’m out of patience, and I’ve decided you’re the problem.” Perhaps not what they meant, but definitely how it landed.
  
• Colleagues in a heated debate over James Gunn’s choice for Superman: “Look, I understand your point, but…” Nope, you don’t. At least, that’s how it feels. Cue the collision of fanboys and the end of polite comic con’s as we know it.

The issue isn’t Look itself; it’s the message it sends in moments when trust is already shaky. You might think you’ve charmed your way into the hearts and minds of your people but Look often reads like a conversational bulldozer, a signal that the door to mutual respect just slammed shut.

I’ll admit it: for years, Look was my go-to power move. It wasn’t a tool for connection; it was a weapon to win arguments and shut people down. Enlightened leadership? Not so much. Turns out, all I did was lose trust, not to mention the arguments.

Looking back (pun intended), the scoreboard speaks for itself: zero wins, countless bruised relationships, and a humbling lesson in the power of words.

We have ChatGPT now; we can figure this out.

Look (yes, the irony is noted), if your first instinct is to roll your eyes and dismiss this argument as overthinking it, let me throw this at you: conflict de-escalation and mediation in international diplomacy. That’s life-and-death stakes. If word choice is critical enough to navigate nuclear tensions, maybe it’s worth considering in your conference room brawls.

So, buck up, leaders. Communication isn’t about aiming for flawless, egg-shell-walking perfection; it’s about not dousing the very bridge you’re trying to build in gasoline. And like it or not, the words you shrug off as trivial are often the ones holding the match.

If you’re in a conversation that actually matters [and no, I’m not talking about flaming your gamer buddies online], it’s time to ditch the lazy shortcuts that unintentionally widen the gap. Start strong, don’t bulldoze. Here’s a few alternatives to Look:

• “Here’s what I’m thinking…” A simple way to create space for mutual exploration rather than launching into a monologue.
• “I hear what you’re saying. What if we considered…” Acknowledge the other perspective, then steer the conversation collaboratively. Pro-tip: people like to know you’re paying attention.
• “Let’s break this down together.” Keeps the tone collaborative, lowers defenses, and subtly signals you’re looking for solutions, not winners.

These [and countless more I’m sure you can find on ChatGPT] share a vital quality: they engage rather than escalate. They invite dialogue, build credibility, and perhaps most importantly they respect the other person’s intelligence.

Because here’s a not-so-secret secret: nobody likes being talked down to, but everyone appreciates being talked with. So go ahead, hit me with your ridiculous counterexamples. But deep down, you know words matter.

I don’t make the big bucks by coaching nonsense.

The reason I coach founders and leaders to avoid habits like Look isn’t because I have a vendetta against small language quirks. It’s because when the stakes are high, words carry weight. And if your goal is to inspire trust, galvanize action, or defuse a ticking time bomb of a situation, the last thing you want is to hand-deliver an obstacle that makes people retreat.

Trust me when I say no VC, PE partner, or gray-bearded CEO emeritus is going to teach you this. Why? Because it’s not flashy, intuitive, or remotely glamorous. This falls into the subtle, deeply unsexy realm of examining how your words actually land on other people. It’s a realm most would rather avoid entirely. It’s easier to bury yourself in balance sheets, perfect pitch decks, or sweeping strategic visions than to stop and ask, “Am I unintentionally shutting people down?”

If you need a business case for this, it’s simple: the best investments are worthless without people willing to back them. Ignore the ripples your words create, and you’ll bleed influence, trust, and impact with the very people you’re courting. They might not consciously register it, but subconsciously? They’re already redirecting their attention and resources; the kind no Series A or record-breaking quarter can replenish.

And when [because it’s only a matter of time] someone throws a Look your way this week, treat it as a thought experiment. Did it slide right off, or did it cling like the memory of a truly bad headline? And more importantly, when it’s your turn to steer the conversation, will you choose to build a bridge or burn one down without even realizing it?