I’ve come to realize that whole-of-government reform rarely fails because of missing policies, strategies, or tools. More often, it falters because of something far simpler, and harder: the conversations we avoid.

For a long time, I saw difficult conversations as distractions from “real work.” They felt uncomfortable, time-consuming, and risky - especially in systems shaped by hierarchy, mandates, and institutional boundaries. Over time, experience taught me otherwise. I now see difficult conversations as part of the work itself - quiet, often invisible leadership practice that makes collaboration and reform possible.

One shift changed everything for me: learning to frame conversations around interests, not power or rights.

In inter-agency settings, it’s easy for discussions to slide into questions of authority. Who owns what, whose mandate comes first, who has the final say. When that happens, people retreat into positions, and the conversation becomes about being right rather than doing what is right. I’ve found that when conversations are reframed around interests - shared outcomes, risks to avoid, public trust, delivery timelines - something softens. The room changes.

Before entering a difficult conversation, I now pause and ask myself:

  • What does this person or agency genuinely care about?

  • What are they worried might go wrong?

  • What shared public value are we actually trying to protect?

That simple preparation often changes how I listen, and how the conversation unfolds.

Timing and approach matter even more in hierarchical systems. I’ve learned not to rush in. Sometimes I start with a short message, just to test the waters. If there’s openness, I ask for time and space for a deeper conversation. If there’s silence or resistance, I wait. Not because the issue doesn’t matter, but because pushing at the wrong moment can do more harm than good.

That said, when the stakes are high, when public interest or institutional credibility is at risk, I don’t walk away entirely. I follow up gently. Persistently. Trying to stay respectful without becoming passive, and firm without becoming confrontational. It’s a delicate balance, and I don’t always get it right.

What I’ve learned is that willingness to engage is the single most important condition for progress. When engagement is present, even difficult reforms move forward, slowly, imperfectly, but forward. When engagement is absent, issues harden. Silos deepen. And time quietly works against us.

Emotion, too, has taught me something. When conversations become emotional, I try not to shut them down immediately. Emotion often signals that something important is at stake. When possible, I stay with the conversation, bringing it back to purpose, not personalities.

But I’ve also learned when to pause. When conversations repeatedly turn confrontational or unproductive, stepping back can be a leadership decision, not avoidance. Distance, sometimes, protects relationships and preserves the possibility of re-engagement later.

If there’s one takeaway from all this, it’s this: how we talk to each other matters as much as what we plan. Whole-of-government reform is built not only through frameworks and designs, but through patience, persistence, and the courage to stay engaged, wisely, when conversations get uncomfortable.

I’m still learning. And I’m curious how others navigate these moments; what works, what doesn’t, and what you’ve learned the hard way.