“While strength is the natural quality of an individual seen in isolation, power springs up between men when they act together and vanishes the moment they disperse. And whoever isolates himself and does not participate in such being together, forfeits power and becomes impotent, no matter how great his strength and how valid his reasons.” – Hannah Arendt

“How can we raise our voices and fight back—we who have no other weapons than poems and paintings and stories? … We shall meet in the place where we can light a candle together, in the place where we can find and grow humanity and hope. We shall meet in love, light, dignity, equality, resilience, renewal, respect for pluralism, appreciation for diversity, and most importantly, democracy. We shall also meet in global sisterhood, solidarity, kindness and empathy. But forgive me, if I tell you that, sometimes, we will also meet in melancholy.” – Elif Shafak

“Opposition brings together, and from discord comes perfect harmony.” – Heraclitus

The term “fight or flight” was coined in 1915 by Harvard physiology professor Walter B. Cannon to describe the instinctive, near automatic response of the sympathetic nervous system in people and animals to perceived threats. Sometimes referred to as the “acute stress response” or “hyperarousal,” the perception of a real or potential danger by the brain’s amygdala rapidly triggers a cascade of physical and neurological responses that have evolved over time to favor responses that are most likely to result in our survival.

In the 1970’s, “fight or flight” was expanded to include “freeze,” a common response of the parasympathetic nervous system to stress that can often be observed in children, people who are unable to successfully fight or flee, and some individuals with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). This description was later revised by psychotherapist Pete Walker to include the word “fawn,” which is also a common response to potential danger, especially in cases of childhood abuse, and in situations involving bullying, blackmail, threats, fear of retaliation, and repeated traumatic experiences.

The purpose of each of these reactions is to prepare the body and mind to act immediately and energetically, without thinking, in ways that seem likely to protect us from harm. These obviously include counter-attacking, running away, freezing to avoid notice, and fawning or currying favor with the attacker, a response Anna Freud called “identification with the aggressor,” in which victims try to avoid harm by placating, or even imitating the perpetrator and seeking to overcome feelings of shame or powerlessness by turning aggressively against anyone the aggressor opposes.

To these four responses I believe we can add a fifth: that both people and animals who find themselves in danger may also, as initially suggested by Stephen Porges’ “polyvagal theory,” seek safety by “flocking” together, and gaining strength or solace through numbers and social cohesion. Thus, people in danger or conflict may instinctively seek the company of others – perhaps in order to “hide in plain sight,” or confuse the aggressor with multiple targets, or appear less obvious a target, or out-number and more easily defend and counter-attack, or simply assuage the fear and panic that dissipate when we share companionship with others.

When flocking is combined with fighting, the upshot is violence or warfare. When it is combined with fleeing, the result is fear or panic. But when it is combined with social connection and empathy, or with dialogue, negotiation, and mediation, the outcome is not a negative, antagonistic “flocking against,” but a positive, collaborative “flocking with,” that results in greater unity and openings to problem solving, negotiated solutions, mediated resolutions, and restorative outcomes.

These openings suggest the presence of a sixth, still less instinctual response, which can be seen when conflicted parties work together to “fix” the problem at its’ source. This “fix” response to danger and conflict resides in the brain’s “executive function,” and may lead in new directions, using naturally synergistic group processes like dialogues, joint problem solving, collaborative negotiation, consensus building, envisioning, brainstorming, and transformative mediation. 

A significant advantage for conflict resolvers, coaches, and therapists of adding “flock” as a fifth response and “fix” as a sixth is that, of all these responses to danger and conflict, only the last two enable hostile parties to evolve to higher order collaborative, mediative, and transformational responses that do not simply attack, escape, avoid, or mimic perceived aggression, but are potentially able to transform, transcend, and overcome it.

Flocking also helps us explain some of the conflict behaviors people commonly engage in, like gossiping and forming cliques; and heroic, selfless, altruistic efforts to help others; as well as dogmatic attitudes, autocratic leaders, and insistence on group alignment and loyalty; while fixing helps us shift the cyclical, repetitive dynamics of aggression and counter-attack and “tit for tat” retaliations, into more skillful and less costly responses that do not demonize or isolate the “perpetrator,” or weaken the “victim’s” capacity for empathy and reconciliation, or keep the conflict going, but aim at reconciliation, a return to open-heartedness, and restoring positive relationships between Self and Other.

This is not to say that “fight, flight, freeze, and fawn” have not been immensely useful in surviving countless dangers, but that, especially in “modern,” “civilized,” “urban,” continuing relationships – as in marriages, families, schools, communities, and workplaces — as well as in interdependent and tightly connected social, economic, political, and environmental settings, these “lower order” responses can result in harmful outcomes that might otherwise be avoided or minimized, and allow the deeper problems that created the conflict to continue unabated.

With flocking, a wider range of more diverse, “higher order” responses can be set in motion simultaneously, permitting multiple options, and allowing synergies and creative combinations to arise, as can be seen, for example, in the murmuration of birds or fish, and the “swarm intelligence” of many animals, even insects. While the focus of the first four responses is on individual and personal survival, the focus of flocking is on group success, allowing altruism, empathy, and bonding to play a more powerful and positive role, leading to highly successful group processes like circles, dialogues, storytelling, therapeutic support groups, and empathy, consensus, and team building.

Similarly, the focus of fixing is on assisting and enabling people to shift from fighting, fleeing, freezing, and fawning to taking small, practical, strategic steps to minimize or reduce the danger, and potentially prevent the conflict by using advanced methodologies like joint problem solving, collaborative negotiation, conflict resolution systems design, solution-focused psychotherapy, restorative justice, and transformational mediation in an effort to eliminate the problem at its’ chronic source.

As mediators, we are often unsuccessful when we try to help conflicted parties move directly from fighting, fleeing, freezing, and fawning to joint problem solving, as these are simple, rough, limited, involuntary responses that are controlled by the sympathetic or parasympathetic nervous system. Flocking and fixing, on the other hand, allow us to use far more complex, richer, consciously chosen, fine-tunable social and strategic approaches centered in the prefrontal cortex, like the anterior cingulate cortex, ventromedial and dorsolateral areas, and anterior insula, which promote the adoption of higher order conflict resolution skills that do not replicate threatening behaviors or turn them in a circle.

To help conflicted parties transition to flocking and fixing, it is of course necessary for mediators not simply to bring people together, but to do so positively and constructively, by seeking to make people aware of and dismantle the hostile attitudes, negative expectations, and adversarial behaviors that keep them locked in competitive, warlike dynamics. By doing so, we can encourage more welcoming, engaging, honest, empathetic, collaborative, synergistic, and problem-solving responses.

“Fixing” is, of course, far slower and less instinctual, reactive, and instantaneous than the first four responses, yet it is also more positive, reflective, and strategic, allowing people to envision their responses to conflict as a movement or progression, in Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman’s words, from fast “system 1” to slow “system 2” responses — in other words, from reactivity to logical and sequential thinking, and from short- to long-term solutions — and as mathematician David Bessis advocates, to a meditative, innovative, insightful, synergistic “system 3” mixture of the two.

By inviting conflicted parties to shift from fighting and fleeing to flocking and fixing, we implicitly encourage them to evolve from lower order responses to conflict, like violence (fighting), avoidance (fleeing), apathy (freezing) and complicity (fawning) to higher order, proactive, generative, constructive, and collective approaches, like joint problem solving, consensus building, collaborative negotiation, ODR, and mediation.

While every mediation is, on some level, an effort to transition from lower to higher order responses to conflict, getting people to a place where they are able to step back from their fear and stress, gain perspective and insight, reflect, and become willing to surrender their simplest, most visceral, and on a primitive level, emotionally satisfying responses to perceived slights or threats from others. This is no simple task, especially when groups, classes, races, religions, cultures, and nations are in competition or at war with one another, and when the mountain of their grief, guilt, and unresolved grievances extends over decades –even millennia — and seem insurmountable.

Yet the costs of not choosing and figuring out how to transition to higher order responses like flocking and fixing are escalating, and the consequences increasingly serious and possibly beyond our capacity to control, especially as we move into AI and nearly instantaneous advanced technologies. It is therefore essential for us to discover ways of flocking — not against, but with one another — enabling us to transform lower order instinctual responses into higher order insightful efforts that expand our ability to work strategically, sustainably, and collaboratively to fix our common problems. 

Mindfulness is a state of active, open attention on the present. It is about observing your thoughts and feelings without judging them.

This state of awareness can be incredibly beneficial for mediators, enhancing their ability to facilitate productive and positive resolutions.

Enhanced Presence and Focus:

Mindfulness cultivates a heightened awareness of the present moment. For mediators, this translates to being fully engaged in the mediation session, noticing subtle cues from the parties involved, and responding thoughtfully rather than reacting impulsively.

Supporting Work: In “The Mindful Mediator” by Michael Keating, the author emphasizes that mindfulness allows mediators to be fully present, creating a safe and supportive space for the parties to express themselves and explore solutions.

Emotional Regulation:

Mediation often involves high emotions. Mindfulness equips mediators with the tools to manage their own emotions and remain calm even when faced with anger, frustration, or distress from the parties involved. This emotional stability creates a sense of trust and safety in the mediation process.

Supporting Work: “Mindfulness for Mediators” by Lois Gold discusses how mindfulness practices, such as deep breathing and body scans, can help mediators regulate their emotions and avoid getting caught up in the emotional intensity of the conflict.

Deep Listening and Empathy:

Mindfulness cultivates deep listening skills, allowing mediators to truly hear and understand the underlying needs and interests of each party. This fosters empathy and helps mediators identify common ground and potential solutions that address everyone’s concerns.

Supporting Work: In “The Art of Mindful Mediation,” Diane Musho Hamilton explores how mindfulness practices can enhance a mediator’s ability to listen deeply, create rapport with the parties, and facilitate open communication.

Impartiality and Non-Judgment:

Mindfulness helps mediators become aware of their own biases and assumptions, allowing them to approach the mediation process with impartiality and avoid taking sides. This neutrality is crucial for building trust with the parties and facilitating a fair and balanced resolution.

Supporting Work: “Mindful Mediation: A Handbook for Dispute Resolution” by Gregorio Billikopf Encina emphasizes the importance of impartiality in mediation and provides practical guidance on how mindfulness can help mediators maintain a neutral stance.

Creative Problem-Solving:

Mindfulness encourages a non-judgmental and open-minded approach to problem-solving. This can help mediators think outside the box, explore creative solutions, and guide the parties towards a mutually agreeable resolution that meets their underlying needs and interests.

Supporting Work: “Conflict Resolution and Mediation: A Mindful Approach” by Barbara Doern Drew explores how mindfulness can enhance creativity and flexibility in the mediation process, leading to more innovative and satisfying outcomes.

By incorporating mindfulness into their practice, mediators can develop a wide range of skills that enhance their effectiveness and contribute to positive outcomes for all parties involved.

Mediation as a divorce option has grown substantially over the years and is now considered mainstream. In the past few years, there has been growth in the use of co-mediation, with partnerships of Attorney/Mental Health Professional and Attorney/Divorce Financial Specialist. The focus of this article is the benefits of Attorney/Mental Health Professional (MHP) co-mediation for the Mediators and the participants.

Attorney Mediators routinely refer their divorce clients to MHPs to help parents develop Parenting Plans. They now see the advantage of having a MHP as a partner in the process, helping the parties untangle and address the emotional concerns affecting the divorce process.

There are two tightly interwoven threads in the tapestry of divorce: the emotional and the legal. Attorney Mediators provide a roadmap of legal issues that must be addressed in a divorce and facilitate negotiations over alimony, asset allocation, and pension distributions, but they are not trained in getting at the emotional factors underlying the resistance that can make it extremely difficult to reach agreements. Sharing the emotional journey with someone trained in this area can be a great relief — to relax, to know a partner is addressing those topics about which the Attorney Mediator feels less comfortable, allows for better thinking.

As objective as we like to think ourselves to be as mediators, we are human beings, subject to biases and automatic brain-based emotional reactions. The co-mediator observes while their partner interacts with the couple and brings into awareness things that might not have been addressed. Additionally, inside a mediation in which emotions are running high, a mediator may have their own fear-based reactions that hinder optimal thinking. The co-mediator can intervene and provide a more fully conscious and considered response, resulting in a better chance of maintaining objectivity. 

Specifically, the benefit of a partnership between mediators from different professions is that each person behind the other set of eyes provides a unique perspective; a way of listening arises from each professional’s education and training, knowledge, and experience, and naturally results in the ability to focus on different aspects of the process. This is the source of a broadened context inside of which the work is being done and allows for more points of entry into the couple’s thinking and their experience. It allows for a broader range of considerations, creates a wider variety of openings for solutions, and offers greater opportunity for untangling the emotional thread from the legal one.

An Attorney/MHP co-mediation allows for particular power in the conversations required to divorce. The extent to which couples can untangle “what’s so” (the facts) from their emotional reactions is the extent to which they will be effective in listening to each other, generating options, and making concessions. The ability of Co-Mediators to distinguish these two threads enables people to more easily come to an agreement. Clarity, velocity, and power come from uncollapsing the layer of emotions from the legal/factual considerations in a divorce.

Conversely, in other conversations during the divorce process there is benefit to the Mediator bringing in more emotional/psychological factors to the law; recognizing the emotional piece allows the mediators to go in directions not codified in the statutes. It can bring more of the clients’ “real” life to the standard considerations of the law, resulting in deeper and more satisfying solutions that align with the clients’ values and concerns, and better serve their future adjustment.

Let’s look at a sample family: Maureen, age 32, owner of a small real estate business, and Phil, age 30, a school teacher, with three children, ages 4, 6, and 8. Dad teaches at the same school their children attend. He takes care of the children after school and during the summer. Maureen parents the children all day Sunday, takes off from work if they are sick and arranges their medical appointments and play dates. They present as two loving, caring parents who share parenting of their children fairly equally. The Mediators are therefore surprised to hear that Phil does not want Maureen to have the children overnight. He simply asserts that the children are used to being with him at night, and it is in their best interest to be with him. Maureen waffles on this, sometimes asserting her desire to have them overnight and at other times conceding it would be easier for the children to stay with Phil, who would bring them to school. The Mediator caucuses and discovers that Maureen drinks heavily at night, but never during the day or on Sundays. During discussions, Phil gets quite hostile with Maureen and says he cannot discuss financial issues “until this is settled.” The mediators understand that there is a history of alcohol abuse in both Phil’s and Maureen’s families and that concerns over alcoholism will underlie all negotiations. The presence of the MHP allows for addressing concerns over alcohol in a direct and structured way, assessing the actual risk level and any needed precautions, as well as helping the parties understand how their family histories affect their present-day judgments and fears. This disentangling of the current facts and needs of their lives from the past enables Maureen and Phil to craft solutions that work for the entire family.

Once those conversations were complete, Maureen and Phil could then talk about finances. Though Maureen earns considerably more than Phil, Phil did not want to accept child support from Maureen. He heard from someone that if you have shared physical custody, there is no child support, but someone else told him there is. At first, Phil envisioned having the children most of the time with Maureen supporting them financially. Once the safety issues were addressed and Phil could support Maureen having more access to the children, Phil felt that he could “take care of my own children without her help.” The parents were given the Child Support Guidelines to review. At first Phil and Maureen barely glanced at the Guidelines, voicing the opinion that “they were ridiculous” and that the amount of money determined to support the children was “ridiculously low.” “How could that amount of money address dance classes, lacrosse, and college?” Suddenly, they were examining the Guidelines for answers and pursuing a discussion of other child expenses. After a conversation about “deviation criteria” they reached an agreement: in lieu of child support, Maureen would take the difference in their net incomes and put it into a college fund for the children. Bringing the structured information from the law, the Child Support Guidelines, into the conversation helped Phil and Maureen anchor and sort out their considerations about expenses and support, which began as an emotionally driven conversation.

The co-mediation allowed Maureen and Paul to:

    Better understand their fears and concerns
    Identify risks to the children
    Develop a Parenting Plan that serves the best interests of the children
    Address financial interests from an unbiased position
    Address all aspects of the divorce without their judgment being clouded by their fears and their history
    Create an Agreement that addresses the specific needs of their family and is compliant with state statutes
    Move forward despite the past

Co-Mediation allows for ease and flow in untangling the intertwined threads of emotions and legalities. Consider Co-Mediation as an option for your next mediated divorce.

Before moving to Dubai, I thought I understood cultural competence. As a conflict-resolution professional, I trained others in neutrality, active listening, and navigating cross-cultural dynamics. I mediated emotionally charged disputes and facilitated sensitive conversations. I believed my practice was inclusive, respectful, and unbiased.

But Dubai challenged me, not overtly, but subtly, through rhythms I hadn’t previously experienced. Time in Dubai doesn’t flow in quite the same way as it does in San Diego, London, or New York, but it doesn’t reject that tempo either. Dubai is a dynamic, fast-paced, and opportunity-driven city, home to a young, ambitious population that is constantly on the move. At the same time, its rhythms are shaped by prayer times, the lunar calendar, the intense summer heat, and deeply held social norms. It straddles both Western urgency and Middle Eastern intentionality, often holding the two in creative tension.

Dubai’s day is punctuated by the five daily prayers, the salah, announced through the Adhan or Call to Prayer. While the Adhan itself happens year-round, during Ramadan, a month of spiritual discipline marked by fasting from dawn to sunset, the atmosphere shifts dramatically. Shops pause, offices adjust hours, and restaurants close during daylight. The pace of life slows considerably, influenced not just by spiritual practice but by communal rhythms. Unlike the relentless Western drive for productivity, Dubai’s pace is segmented deliberately, offering space for reflection, connection, and spirituality.

Initially, this rhythm felt unfamiliar, even frustrating. As a Westerner with a background in law and litigation, I was accustomed to a rapid pace where silence or slowness could feel almost emotionally dysregulating, triggering anxiety about productivity and efficiency. I found myself waiting longer in queues, rescheduling meetings because offices closed early, and adjusting expectations around email replies. Fridays, even after Dubai’s shift to a Monday-Friday workweek, still retain a semi-sacred slowness due to midday communal prayers. It took me months to stop viewing these rhythms through a Western lens of inefficiency and instead appreciate them as expressions of a different, and equally valid, relationship with time.

Then came Ramadan, the ultimate lesson in slowing down. Workdays shortened, meetings reduced, and daytime activity declined dramatically, giving way to a vibrant nightlife after sunset when communities broke their fast together. During Ramadan, the intent and purpose of fasting overrides almost everything else. Even major projects and pressing deadlines naturally move to the back burner. There is a widespread acknowledgment that rest and spiritual reflection carry far greater importance than productivity. Initially, this waiting was difficult. But gradually, I felt myself adapting to a new rhythm: one that valued presence over productivity, relationships over efficiency, and reflection over speed.

These cultural rhythms revealed something critical about my professional assumptions: implicit bias isn’t just about race, gender, or class. It also shows up in how we perceive time, pacing, and silence in mediation.

Reflecting back, I recalled mediations where I rushed through pauses, assuming silence meant awkwardness or disengagement. I realized how often I had nudged people toward a faster resolution, mistaking a slower response as indecision or lack of preparedness. My unspoken assumptions about pacing had inadvertently shaped the mediation process, privileging my own cultural framework.

In Emirati culture, every greeting involves multiple exchanges of pleasantries and genuine inquiries about health, family, and well-being. When I first experienced this type of hospitality, with its leisurely offering of coffee, chai, or tea, I initially felt a sense of anxiety: Why weren’t we accomplishing something? Why was time being spent this way? Eventually, I understood these deliberate pauses represented deep relational value, in direct contrast to the transactional efficiency I had grown accustomed to. Everything pauses during these exchanges; rushing through them feels inappropriate, even rude.

Similarly, the call to prayer itself acts as a cultural anchor throughout Dubai. The Adhan, with its chanting tones reverberating even in modern shopping malls and grocery stores, invites a communal pause. Even as a non-Muslim, I couldn’t help but feel the reverberation of that pause, a cultural reminder to slow down, reflect, and reset.

Intercultural scholar Stella Ting-Toomey points out that high-context cultures often embed meaning in pauses, silence, and pacing, not merely in spoken words. Her insight resonated deeply. Dubai had shown me firsthand that one party’s silence could be another’s sacred pause. One person’s delay might reflect disciplined thoughtfulness, not reluctance or confusion.

The Adhan became more than background sound, it became my reminder. Every call reinforced that neutrality as a mediator is about active humility. My role isn’t to impose my pace or assumptions, but to honor each party’s rhythm. Time, silence, and presence aren’t neutral concepts; they carry cultural weight.

In practical terms, I began to incorporate deliberate pauses into mediation sessions, intentionally creating a minute of silence before responses to emotionally charged statements. I also started conversations by explicitly asking parties how they naturally mark and use time in their daily lives, allowing their answers to inform my mediation rhythm and adapt to individual preferences.

Beyond techniques, Dubai and Ramadan taught me something broader: true neutrality requires questioning the very lenses through which we perceive mediation itself. My implicit bias wasn’t loud or obvious, it was subtle, quiet, embedded in the pace at which I moved through conflicts.

Ramadan, in particular, deepened my appreciation of human resilience and faith. Watching even children and athletes maintain their commitment to fasting through long days and high temperatures filled me with awe. This awe shifted my internal tempo from a push for results to genuine respect for quiet discipline and communal commitment.

We mediators often say we meet people where they are. But can we truly do so if we unconsciously insist they match our own tempo?

Dubai forced me to slow down and listen not just to words, but to pauses; not just to timing, but to tempo; not just to behavior, but to belief. In the stillness of Ramadan, I found a depth of listening I previously believed I already practiced.

Implicit bias is elusive, it thrives unnoticed in our everyday assumptions. It took the slow rhythms of prayer times, the communal patience of Ramadan, and Dubai’s deliberate pacing to reveal mine. I’m grateful for that gentle, powerful lesson.

Inshallah, may we all slow down enough to truly listen.

A Personal Awakening in Mediation

On a quiet summer night in 2023, my phone rang, shattering the silence. On the other end, my mother’s voice trembled with despair: “I don’t think I can live anymore.” My heart pounded—I knew what this meant. My father was at it again. Within hours, I was on a 17-hour flight to China, hurtling toward the chaos of my parents’ crumbling marriage.

Their divorce process was mediated by a business executive with no formal conflict resolution training. The challenge? My father exhibited classic signs of narcissistic personality disorder—manipulative, controlling, and determined to use the mediation process as a weapon. “No way she gets what she wants. She needs to learn, to be punished, and suffer the consequences,” he repeated to the mediator, deliberately delaying negotiations. Watching the process unfold while in my home country, I found myself questioning the very principle I had been taught in my mediation training: neutrality.

The Limitations of Neutrality

Neutrality is the gold standard in mediation—a commitment to fairness that ensures neither party is favored. But in cases involving high-conflict personalities, particularly narcissists, strict neutrality can inadvertently empower the aggressor and harm the vulnerable party.

In my parents’ divorce negotiations, I observed how my father dominated the process, alternating between threats, charm, and victimhood. He flooded the mediator with coercive messages while my mother sat in silent distress. The mediator struggled to manage the pace of the process, acknowledging privately how difficult neutrality felt in the face of such manipulation. This experience reinforced a hard truth: when neutrality fails to address power imbalances, it ceases to be neutral—it becomes complicit.

Understanding the Narcissistic Mindset

Narcissists thrive on control. They see the world in rigid binaries—winners and losers, dominance and submission. Research shows they often hijack rational discussions, making meaningful negotiation nearly impossible. My father, a respected pediatrician in public but a domineering figure at home, exemplified this contradiction. His need for external validation and authority led him to manipulate both my mother and the mediator to direct the process to favor his terms.

Behavioral economist Dan Ariely’s work on irrational decision-making brings light to this dynamic. He states how heightened emotions can overpower rational thought, causing individuals—particularly those with narcissistic tendencies—to behave unpredictably and, at times, destructively. In mediation, this means that traditional techniques based on good faith negotiations can fall apart when one party operates from a place of entitlement and control.

A Call for Adaptive Mediation

Mediation should not just be about neutrality—it’s about fairness. But fairness is not an abstract principle; it is deeply tied to the emotions that shape decision-making. When dealing with narcissistic personalities, mediators must recognize that logic and reason alone will not drive resolution—emotion plays a critical role. Fear, entitlement, and a need for attention and dominance often fuel a narcissist’s behavior, which makes traditional neutrality insufficient.

When I later asked the mediator what eventually drove my father to agree to the settlement, the mediator stated, “I guess that day he was in a good mood, so he suddenly signed.” These seemingly simple words further reinforce that effective and advanced mediators understand and recognize that moods, personal triggers, and psychological needs can be just as influential as the facts of the case. By identifying these emotional cues and adapting approaches accordingly, mediators can guide parties toward resolution in ways that pure logic cannot achieve.

So, how should mediators navigate working with parties involving narcissists? Here are a few key takeaways from my personal experience:

Set Firm Boundaries (and Stick to Them): Narcissists push limits—it’s what they do. If mediators don’t set firm boundaries from the start, they’ll take every opportunity to twist the process in their favor. I’ve seen how my father used delay tactics, gaslighting, and emotional outbursts to derail negotiations. Boundaries aren’t just guidelines; they’re the foundation that keeps mediation from turning into a battleground.

Reframe Neutrality as Fairness: For a long time, I believed neutrality meant treating both parties exactly the same. But when power imbalances exist—in cases involving narcissists like my father—this approach only enables destructive behavior. I’ve come to realize that fairness doesn’t mean giving both sides equal ground; it means making sure one party isn’t weaponizing the process for self-benefit. True neutrality isn’t about passively waiting and watching things unfold—it’s about stepping in when needed to ensure the process remains fair and effective.

Use Strategic Empathy: At first, I resisted the idea of giving a narcissist any kind of emotional validation when mediating my own cases. Why should I acknowledge their need for control? The question bothers me. But I’ve since learned that ignoring their emotional drivers only makes them dig in deeper. Instead, strategic empathy—recognizing their need for attention and validation while subtly redirecting it—can be a game-changer. Framing resolutions in a way that appeals to their ego (such as emphasizing how an agreement will reflect positively on them and their social image) often moves things forward more effectively than logic alone.

Leverage Third-Party Safeguards: One of the toughest lessons I’ve learned is that sometimes, mediation itself isn’t enough. Narcissists thrive in isolation, where they can manipulate without oversight. That’s why I now bring in legal experts, therapists, or additional mediators when necessary. Extra safeguards can help neutralize emotional exploitation and keep the process focused on real solutions, not just power struggles.

Final Thoughts

As mediators, we are lectured and required to remain impartial and avoid favoring any party. However, situations involving great power imbalances, volatile emotions, or individuals like my father who have NPD reveal that neutrality can become an obstacle to effective mediation. I believe that neutrality cannot always apply uniformly to every situation. When one party feels disregarded or disrespected during the mediation process, the mediator will need to abandon strict neutrality to work around emotions and take personal, tailored approaches.

True neutrality does not mean passivity; it means actively ensuring that the process leads to genuine resolution, not further harm. Adaptive mediation requires understanding that emotions—not just arguments—drive decisions. By addressing these emotional undercurrents, we, as mediators, can prevent the process from becoming another tool of abuse and instead steer it toward fair and sustainable outcomes.

Recently practitioners, scholars and enthusiasts of alternative dispute resolution gathered—virtually and in person—at a JAMS Resolution Center to examine one of the most pressing and intriguing questions in the field: What happens when the very technology causing or complicating a dispute is also asked to help solve it? At the event, titled “AI’s Double-Edged Role in Dispute Resolution: When the Machine Tries to Solve the Dispute It Created,” participants witnessed a meticulously staged simulation of a challenging international mediation. Through this scenario, attendees explored how artificial intelligence (AI) could shape the future of conflict resolution and how human mediators might continue to excel despite, or perhaps because of, the new tools at their disposal.
Setting the Stage: A Complex, Cross-Border Dispute

The central case study for this event featured a dispute between two parties: AI Horizon (Horizon) and Quantum Cognition (Quantum). Horizon, a Luxembourg company owned by a Beijing-based conglomerate, had commissioned Quantum, a Silicon Valley startup, to develop a large language model (LLM) intended to rival global conversational AI systems. The final product was supposed to handle multiple languages, comply with diverse legal regimes (notably the EU AI Act and various Chinese regulations) and ultimately enhance Horizon’s brand worldwide.

Yet trouble emerged quickly. Horizon withheld an $8 million payment, claiming that the LLM produced “hallucinations”—factual misstatements or offensive content that could be legally and reputationally hazardous, especially in the Chinese market. Horizon insisted the malfunctions endangered its compliance with strict EU and Chinese regulations. Quantum, on the other hand, argued it delivered exactly what Horizon requested on a constrained budget, using only open-source data. It saw the hallucinations as an inherent artifact of current AI technologies, not a breach of contract. Instead of paying, Horizon demanded $95 million in damages—an astronomical figure that Quantum dismissed as outrageous.

The event’s simulation allowed attendees to follow the dispute from a joint mediation session through private caucuses and back again, showcasing how a human mediator might facilitate a resolution. Attendees were also invited to contrast how an AI-driven mediator—or AI-assisted mediator—might handle such a complex scenario.
Human Mediation in Action: Uncovering Interests and Managing Emotions

Attendees watched as a human mediator navigated the emotional and legal thicket. In the initial joint session, tensions ran high: Horizon’s representatives insisted on compensation for reputational damage and compliance risks, while Quantum’s counsel threatened to leave, calling the demands “nuts.” The human mediator’s role here was to cool tempers, invite a short recess and encourage more constructive dialogue. With gentle but firm interventions, the mediator guided the parties toward separate caucuses.

In private sessions, the mediator dug deeper to understand each side’s underlying interests. Horizon’s team privately admitted they were desperate for a fix—less concerned with the large damages figure than with preventing reputational ruin in China. Quantum’s representatives, behind closed doors, expressed frustration at not being paid and worried about setting a precedent for endless liability. They acknowledged that the hallucinations could be mitigated, but not eliminated entirely with better data and more resources.

For attendees, this underscored a classic mediation lesson: Beneath the bravado and extreme demands lie real interests. Here, Horizon wanted reassurance, brand protection and regulatory compliance; Quantum wanted fair compensation, limited liability and long-term viability.
Introducing AI Into the Equation: Risks and Opportunities

The event did not merely showcase traditional mediation. It framed the dispute as one in which AI was both the source of the problem and a potential tool for its resolution. Attendees learned that, while current AI language models can summarize positions, predict outcomes and propose bargaining ranges, they lack the nuanced empathy and cultural awareness that can defuse emotional standoffs.

When tensions rose, would an AI mediator have recognized the cultural sensitivities at play—Horizon’s Chinese parent company’s emphasis on “face” and reputation—or the softening stance of Quantum’s CEO, who felt “bad” for Horizon’s predicament? Probably not, at least not without sophisticated cultural training and emotional intelligence that current generative models struggle to replicate. By comparing the human mediator’s approach—acknowledging cultural concerns, suggesting creative solutions such as an apology and an insurance policy—to what a purely AI-driven tool might do, participants concluded that human insight remains invaluable.

However, the event did highlight how AI can assist mediators. AI-driven tools could have quickly analyzed the contract language, outlined relevant EU and Chinese regulations, and even reviewed prior precedent on AI-related disputes. It could have provided data-driven risk assessments and suggested best practices for contract amendments. The key is that these capabilities supplement, rather than supplant, the human mediator’s role.
Creative Solutions: From Insurance to Apologies

A turning point in the simulated mediation was the mediator’s suggestion to use specialized insurance to cover reputational harm caused by AI hallucinations. This represented the hallmark of effective dispute resolution: expanding the pie and finding options beyond a simple monetary exchange. By insuring against the risks of offensive hallucinations, Quantum could offer Horizon a level of reassurance without promising the impossible—zero hallucinations.

Similarly, the mediator proposed a carefully crafted apology that would resonate with Horizon’s Chinese stakeholders. Quantum’s representatives, initially hesitant, agreed to a statement that acknowledged the difficulties and consequences without admitting legal liability. This culturally sensitive gesture, coupled with insurance to mitigate future problems, allowed both sides to move beyond their entrenched positions.

This creative problem-solving demonstrated the value of a human mediator. The human element—empathy, creativity, cultural literacy—remains irreplaceable.
Balancing Rationality and Emotion

The event demonstrated the delicate interplay between rational negotiation and emotional satisfaction. Horizon’s large damages claim initially seemed irrational, but in private, it became clear it needed to signal seriousness and protect its image with its parent company. By the end of the mediation, Horizon was willing to reduce that figure drastically if it could secure data licensing, additional training, hosting agreements and proper safeguards against reputational fallout.

Quantum learned that simply insisting “we met the contract” would not solve the problem, as it ignored Horizon’s deeper interests. The insurer’s involvement and a thoughtful apology helped bridge this emotional and cultural gap. While on purely rational grounds Quantum might have resisted further concessions, addressing Horizon’s emotional needs allowed both sides to reach a workable solution.
Looking Forward: AI and the Future of Dispute Resolution

The event concluded with reflections on the role AI might play going forward. Could AI-driven mediators one day handle such disputes independently? Perhaps, but current AI tools struggle with nonverbal cues, deep cultural contexts and the emotional intelligence required for high-stakes conflict resolution. Instead, a more realistic near-term scenario is a hybrid model: a human mediator supported by AI analytics. Technology could handle data-intensive tasks while the human mediator maintains rapport, injects creativity and displays sensitivity.

Attendees left with a clearer appreciation of both the potential and limits of AI in dispute resolution. Although AI can cause or complicate disputes, it can also provide tools to manage them more efficiently. Still, it is the human mediator’s judgment, empathy and creative problem-solving that ultimately bring parties to a durable, culturally appropriate and mutually satisfactory resolution.
If AI Gains the Ability to Read Emotions: A Future Outlook

In recent developments, AI has been enhanced to be able to understand visual data. It can now be given access to your computer screens or video camera and be able to interpret what it “sees” with great accuracy. As of the writing of this piece, it does not yet have the ability (or is not yet allowed) to interpret emotional states. However, if AI systems became adept at recognizing nonverbal cues, cultural signals and subtle emotional states, this may actually prove beneficial for human mediators.

In such a scenario, human mediators could leverage these advanced tools as an emotional radar of sorts, detecting shifts in tone or stress before disputes escalate. This partnership would enhance mediators’ ability to respond more effectively. However, mediators would likely focus even more on complex, deeply rooted conflicts that require moral judgment, cultural nuance and the ability to address existential questions that machines cannot yet replicate authentically. AI offers numerous advantages, but it will ultimately be human behavior that dictates its adoption. Just because AI is available doesn’t mean it will always be used. In complex mediations involving significant financial stakes, AI can provide best practice suggestions and informed recommendations. However, when the stakes are highest, people often prefer to speak directly with the top decision-maker or advisor.

While AI might handle more routine cases or assist in reading parties’ emotions, it remains likely that human mediators would distinguish themselves by providing genuine empathy, trust-building and creative problem-solving. Far from rendering human mediators obsolete, emotionally perceptive AI could push them into more specialized, higher-level roles. Human mediators would emphasize what makes them uniquely human—empathy, cultural intelligence, ethical reasoning and the human to human and pier to pier connection—preserving their indispensable role even in an age of emotionally savvy AI.