As the year draws to a close, I find myself thinking about some of the important lessons Clay Christensen taught me. It’s common knowledge that the late Harvard Business School professor and co-founder of the Christensen Institute, was a masterful communicator. His ability to demystify complex phenomena using simple language and stories drew in readers and listeners. Whenever I read or listen to Clay’s work, I leave feeling wiser, smarter, and more empowered–and I know I’m not alone. Clay didn’t write or speak to show you how smart he was; instead, he wrote and spoke to leave you with a new lens with which to see the world. A lens that helps you make sense of this vast and complex world we live in.
Those qualities by themselves are skills that many communicators don’t have even as content creation has become more abundant today. But even those qualities, remarkable as they are, weren’t the most important lesson he taught me about communication.
Here it is: express gratitude, seek to understand and only then can your communication have influence.
In 2018, I had the opportunity to share the stage with Clay at the BYU Strategy Professional Conference in Provo, Utah. After the event, someone with whom we had sent an advance copy of The Prosperity Paradox shared disagreements with some of the ideas in the book. One of his major gripes was that the world had made significant progress on poverty over the past 50 years. He explained that “many more children are in school, many more women survive childbirth, and many more people live outside the shackles of extreme poverty.” He was right.
But I instantly went into defense mode. I began explaining what we were trying to communicate. I said, “True, fewer people live in extreme poverty today than lived in poverty 50 years ago, but much of the progress against poverty has happened in China, India, Vietnam and a few other countries.” I also tried to help him see that our focus was not on alleviating poverty but on creating prosperity. I tried saying a few other things but as I spoke, I saw that I was losing him. He was listening but I doubt he was hearing me.
It was here that Clay got into the conversation. He saw that the more I spoke, the deeper the grave I dug for myself and our ideas. I had missed the point. I had lost my customer.
Clay then softly put his hands on the table and said, in the most honest and humble way, “Frank, thank you for reading our book. We appreciate it.” Immediately, I saw Frank’s face change. He was back in the room. When I was speaking Frank leaned back but now he was leaning in. And then Clay said, “we will see what we can do to make some of the changes you’re recommending.” And just like that, Frank was back with us. In fact, Frank felt so appreciated that he invited us to be a part of an event his organization was planning. Although I don’t always live up to it, I have never forgotten that experience.
That experience taught me that, in communication, sometimes winning is the surest path to losing.
That moment reshaped how I think about communication. The purpose of communication is to influence people. Sometimes we want them to laugh, cry, feel deeply, or understand something. Regardless of the outcome, we want to provide them with information that does something to them or causes them to do something.
I often say that at the Christensen Institute, our currency is our ideas. The more people that hear these ideas and do something with them, the better we are doing. But in getting people to adopt your ideas, you must first understand them, empathize with their circumstances, and then communicate in such a way that moves them to action. Unfortunately, much of the communication that happens today tends to incite anger and sow dissent. The communicator might be factually correct and, in effect, win the “argument” but he or she is certainly losing influence.
This is important to understand, especially for people who are fighting for causes such as justice, poverty, and socioeconomic progress. We must learn to communicate in such a way that influences people with resources. To write and speak primarily with righteous indignation rarely gets the job done.
Ultimately, Clay showed me that effective communication isn’t about winning an argument. It’s about planting seeds of an idea in a soil rich enough to grow. When we lead with gratitude and seek to understand, we don’t just share ideas—we create the conditions for those ideas to take root and truly matter.
