It’s the Conversation that Matters Most: The Surprising Success of (some) Online Facilitation

Over the past year, I've been surprised by the growing need for online facilitation—and its unexpected successes. While New Zealand's pandemic experience meant we didn't have to fully embrace online work, the global interest in restorative practices has changed that. I now frequently facilitate across borders, connecting with people from different states, countries, and continents.

Sometimes, online facilitation is simply necessary—whether due to illness, accessibility needs, costs (financial or environmental), or urgent conversations that can't wait for travel. Whatever the reason, I've learned that online spaces, when approached with care and creativity, can foster powerful and transformative conversations.

I often tell new facilitators who are nervous about getting everything just right: it's the conversation that matters most. Yes, I prefer an open circle of chairs to a giant boardroom table. I'd rather have the luxury of time to the constraints of someone's packed schedule. And I will always choose to be in the same room when I can. But when that's not possible, what's most important is that the conversation happens at all.

But to my surprise, some of the most impactful moments have occurred online.

I've had two recent cases that have changed my mind about the potential of online work.

In the first, three of us represented three different countries, time zones, first languages, cultures, and religions. The conflict involved a deeply traumatic historic harm and had become intractable. The individuals had been funneled into investigative and complaints processes, which had only entrenched their positions and defenses. After significant preparation work, when the restorative session occurred, the conversation shifted dramatically to one of empathy, compassion, vulnerability, and shared sorrow. The transformation they experienced was immense.

One participant told me after the session, "That was the most important conversation of my life."

This was mind-blowing to me. Of course, I know the power of restorative practices. But even I had doubts about its ability to reach through the screen so powerfully.

In another case, a team had developed such a culture of distrust that team members regularly broke down crying in meetings, raised their voices, and made harmful accusations. Trust was shattered as they assumed the worst of each other in every interaction.

I was amazed by the courage they showed in our session, finally answering honestly about how the dynamic was affecting them. The facades cracked and they were able to see each other as humans—all hurting in the same way, all suffering, stressed, and sad; each craving trust and connection. All I had done was simply ask them to share and listen to 'how have you been affected by the way things have been between you lately?'

As they took turns sharing, I could see through the screens as eyes welled up, tense shoulders dropped, and tiny red heart emojis appeared.

Follow-ups revealed that this session led to a wary but tentative trust, which, through time (and a couple more sessions), deepened into a shared understanding, a shared story, and a new bond and pride in what they had overcome.

Now, instead of tears of frustration, they regularly share laughs and gratitude for moments to clear up misunderstandings—now trusting that they have the skills to respond and a shared affection.

Cases like these remind me that while online facilitation presents challenges—trust is harder to build, attention can wane, and the lack of shared space can feel isolating—it also offers unique opportunities.

Online facilitation allows us to connect across vast distances, bringing together people who might never have met otherwise. It forces us to innovate, to find new ways to build trust and connection. And when done thoughtfully, it can create moments of meaning that rival those of in-person sessions.

So how do we bring the essence of in-person facilitation into an online space? How do we replicate the trust, connection, and humanity of a shared room when the conversation must happen through a screen? These are questions I'm constantly exploring, and they drive my approach to online work.

What I know for certain is this: whether we meet face-to-face or screen-to-screen, the quality of the process matters deeply. We're committed to making every conversation meaningful, no matter where or how it happens. Because in the end, it's the conversation that matters most.