Overstructuring dialogue, both one-on-ones and group dialogues, is another form of being "overactive" as a facilitator. It's good to have interesting structures and abundant questions to fall back on if / when the energy is stuck or low or slow. But for a facilitator to insist on a structure or a particular question because of being attached to it, comfortable or familiar with it, can actually chill or kill the natural flow of insight, questioning, or even exploring differences which often happens without facilitator intervention, when the facilitator is wise enough to sit back and "do nothing." Sometimes doing nothing, allowing silence, spaciousness and the flow of curiosity and connection, suits the deeper purpose of dialogue.

Failure to intervene when intervention is really needed. The clearest example of this is being passive as a facilitator when one person is overtalking or dominating the discussion. Skillful intervention DOES require interruption at times, rather than politely waiting until the person is "done" with their soliloquy. Often the less talkative party is grateful, and the overtalkative person is also grateful for the intervention because they know, but can't easily control, their tendency to go on and on.

Subtle, but critical: by paying attention to body language and energy shifts (monotone speaking, lack of eye contact) the facilitator can learn when participants are under-whelmed with the dialogue. Facilitators can then do something creative to raise the energy, and re-engage the participants by insisting on stories rather than recitation of theory; ask an intentionally provocative question; take a break, or even re-arrange the seating to physically give participants a "new perspective." Often low energy means that something is being avoided; the facilitator can intuit what that something is, give permission to tackle it, actively leading participants back to the hot spot.

Failure to check assumptions: One facilitator, Martin Wiley, wrote, "The absolute worst thing is to come in with assumptions or expectations, either about the participants or how the discussion will go. I could never stress this enough. I went to a one-on-one discussion with a young anarchist from a fairly privileged background and an older college-activist from what I thought was an equally or more privileged background. Many of my questions were geared towards exploring the differences between the two communities. It turned out that the college activist had grown up on a farm, as a migrant worker, and had struggled to put herself through college. She felt little or no connection to the wealthy, relaxed students she saw all around her. She was older and felt that the campus activist community was not hers, and didn't really feel that she had a community to claim. As my entire plan was based on a difference of communities, I was forced to rework things on the spot. I was able to, mostly thanks to the participants, but I should never have put myself into that position."

Another almost comedic example of making foolish assumptions (which always, of course, seem logical at the time): I assumed an older, seasoned activist who is also a woman of color, would carry negative stereotypes about young white anarchist activists similar to the stereotypes I usually run into. When the older activist and I arrived on time, and the young anarchist didn't appear for 20 minutes, I assumed the older activist was feeling frustrated or having negative feelings about what began to look like a no-show. I felt I would have to try very hard to connect the two. When the anarchist activist did show up, in fact the older, seasoned activist did a much better job than I did of being relaxed, gracious, appreciative, bonding directly, personally, and immediately with her younger counterpart. I needn't have worried! In fact, as a woman of color, the older activist was fascinated and impressed with this young white woman who was making anti-racism central to her political work and identity.