Listen First

Listen First

Change comes from supporting each other. But support doesn’t always look like what we expect.

John Seryak started a sustainability club in college because he didn’t feel welcome anywhere else. The existing climate groups on campus felt exclusive and judgmental, and he wanted a space where people could explore these issues in a way that was right for them. That was 20 years ago. Today, his company, Go Sustainable Energy, runs on the same principle.

When John shared his story on the Green Champions Podcast, one detail stayed with me. Every Monday, his team of engineers gathers on company time. They go around the room, and each person talks about what they’re working on. It doesn’t have to be a success story. It’s just: tell us what you’re doing. Tell us your story.

And while one person speaks, everyone else listens.

Not checks their phone. Not mentally prepares their own update. They just listen.

John was clear about why this matters. If someone were disengaged, the group would notice. They’d offer gentle redirection. Because at Go, paying attention is the culture.

What struck me is how directly he connected this internal practice to external work. “If you can’t pay attention and show interest in the client,” he said, “we’re in trouble.”

It makes sense when you think about it. Clients often know they have a problem. But they’re only ready for certain solutions. You can’t solve their problem by forcing the “right” answer on them. You have to meet them where they are.

John put it simply: people tend to view energy challenges as technological problems, or economic ones, or matters of political will. In his experience, none of those are usually the real hangup. The real hangup only reveals itself when you stop explaining and start listening.

“If you can ask questions, you will make a difference,” he said. “If you start offering solutions, you’re probably wrong.”

I’ve seen this pattern in my own work with founders. Early stage entrepreneurs often push harder when things aren’t landing. They try to convince people their solution is right. They refine the pitch, sharpen the argument, turn up the volume.

But the founders who actually create lasting change? They do the opposite. They listen first. They understand the appetite for change. Then they guide people toward what’s right for them, not what’s right in the abstract.

Listening has become a big part of how I coach and mentor. Not because I learned it from a book, but because I’ve felt what it’s like to be on the receiving end. That space where someone is truly listening to you is precious. It doesn’t just feel good. It actually brings out insights you didn’t know you had. When someone holds space for your thinking, you start to hear your own answers more clearly.

I think about this in terms of presence. When we’re trying to help someone, there’s a pull toward fixing. Toward having the answer. Toward demonstrating our value by solving the problem quickly. But that impulse, however well-intentioned, can get in the way of the deeper work.

Real support often looks quieter than we expect. It looks like staying with someone in the uncertainty. Like asking a question instead of offering a solution. Like trusting that they have more wisdom about their own situation than we do.

John’s Monday meetings aren’t just about team bonding or internal communication. They’re a training ground. Every week, his engineers practice the skill they’ll need most when they’re sitting across from a client: the ability to become genuinely interested in someone else’s problem, even if it’s not the problem they would have chosen.

That’s not a soft skill. That’s the foundation of trust.

And trust is what makes change possible.

If you’re building something that matters, if you’re trying to help people move toward something better, consider what it would mean to listen before you lead. Not as a tactic. As a posture.

The clarity that comes from truly hearing someone is often the difference between a solution that sounds right and one that actually fits.