Posturing, Projection & the Bark That Reveals the Bite

Have you ever had a conversation where someone reveals more than they realise, without actually saying very much?

I was at a founder/investor event recently, mingling, doing the usual dance of conversations with people you’ve either met before or feel like you have. One chat stood out, and it wasn’t because of what was said per se, but because of what was revealed between the lines.

There were three of us in this particular conversation; myself, someone I’d spoken with briefly at another event, and a speaker I’d met earlier that morning. The first man was confident, almost too confident. This was the sort of confident that needs to be seen rather than felt. He talked about his connections to capital, what he’d advised, what he could open up, yet all of it came with strings attached. There was an immediate interest in my startup, but he beckoned for me to follow him into a quiet corner of the room for a more hushed discussion, probably because he charges a fee to “help” with early-stage fundraising. Investment, apparently, comes later. I didn’t say much, instead I just listened intently but something in me didn’t trust what was being said.

The conversation shifted when we discovered a shared connection to a particular region of the world. That opened a different door and an opportunity to move away from business talk and into something more human. A third person, a speaker from earlier in the evening, joined us. As we made that geographical link, I asked where he was from. “Sardinia,” he replied. Immediately, the other man interjected: “Ah, mafia.”

Men Wearing Coats and Fedoras Standing in front of a Car by Katherine Bowers

It was careless. Casual on the surface, but laced with stereotype. The Sardinian’s response was sharp. “That’s Sicily,” he said, clear and firm. However, the other man doubled down. There was no listening, no curiosity, just projection.

I stepped in, tried to ground the moment and said something about low-level crime being everywhere, in an attempt to neutralise the clear charge between the two men. Still, the insistence continued. The Sardinian didn’t escalate, but he didn’t fold either. He just held his ground. That stayed with me.

That night, I had a dream…

I was in amongst a group of men, who had a shared plan, with tools in hand. We were outdoors in the backyard of a small country house. There was a little white dog with us. As we moved down the road, we passed a neighbouring house, and out came another dog. It was the same breed, but more agitated, barking, charging, and extremely yappy.

Angry Dog by Alexas Fotos

Our dog — my dog — calmly walked away from its ball and sat on the other side of the road. He wasn’t afraid, just uninterested in the noise. I encouraged him to go back and collect what was his, but he stayed put. There was no threat, just incessant barking.

I woke up thinking about the interaction from the day prior. The dream didn’t invent it, but mirrored what had occurred. The calm dog, holding presence, whilst the noisy dog, tried — in vain — to assert dominance but achieved very little. And me, in the middle, discerning which energy to align with.

We talk a lot about leadership, but not enough about discernment. EQ isn’t always about expressing empathy or saying the right thing. It’s about reading the room, reading yourself, and recognising when not to engage. Some interactions are invitations to connect, whereas others are just noise.

Sometimes the most powerful thing to do is to simply let the dog bark, then walk on.