What Years of Peer Groups Taught Me About Human Relationships

Some of the most consequential decisions in the world are made with the help of peers.

When I started studying masterminds (a type of peer group), I surprisingly discovered them to be most present at two hidden ends of society.

CEOs have gathered for a long time in confidential forums to work through decisions they can't easily discuss elsewhere. At almost the opposite end of the spectrum, people fighting for their sobriety have gathered in peer-led rooms like Alcoholics Anonymous for generations.

The circumstances could hardly be more different. But underneath them is the same basic idea: people navigating difficult things can be extraordinarily useful to one another.

Peer groups aren't new, and they aren't “soft”. The fact that executives with zero time to waste have relied on them to make million-dollar decisions, as well as those on the brink of survival, shows they are battle-tested. Stanford's research on AA revealed just how powerful their methodology is.

What struck me years ago was how many people in the vast middle had never experienced a real one and, worse, were navigating their own difficulties without a group to lean on.

That is why I originally started my company: to help those in the middle who didn't have access — and even the knowledge — that such support existed.

And in trying to make those groups as good as they could possibly be, I ended up learning something much bigger than how to run good peer groups.

How good can we make being together?

Whenever people trusted us with their time, I wanted that time to be worthwhile.

So from one group to the next, I kept paying attention to what made their experience better and making tweaks to keep improving it.

What makes people trust one another? What allows someone to stop giving the polished version and talk about what's actually going on? What makes a conversation valuable enough that people want to come back month after month? What makes us care enough about another person's progress that we genuinely want to help?

The longer I did this work, the more I realized how enormous the range of human interaction actually is.

Most interactions aren't bad. People are kind. They listen. They want to be helpful. They treat one another well.

But there is an enormous variation between a group of good people being pleasant with one another and what I've seen possible when a group is “all in”.

At the far end, people are fully there: mentally, emotionally, physically. They laugh and cry together. They truly care for one another. They become invested in one another. They forget everything else when they are together.

I would run four-hour-long masterminds that would end, and people would head to the bar to keep talking with one another. That's what I'm talking about.

Once you've seen enough relationships like that, ordinary interactions start to look different.

You realize how much more is possible.

I thought I was improving peer groups. I was learning about human relationships.

Trying to make these experiences better led me much deeper into the basic dynamics of how people relate.

I saw what trust changed. When people felt safe enough to let their guard down, the conversation changed. Instead of bringing the easiest problem to discuss, they could bring the one that actually kept them up at night.

I saw what happened when people revealed their reality to one another. The CEO across the table stopped being simply another CEO. There was a whole person there, with a history, fears, ambitions, relationships, things they had survived, and reasons for wanting what they wanted.

When people started seeing the whole person, not just the title, care would build up.

This care became a massive factor that completely changed the dynamic.

When someone knows you and genuinely cares, they show up differently. They listen more closely. They think harder. They want to help more. They remember. They check back in. They offer their experience, perspective, encouragement, and resources because your progress matters to them, too.

The more of these interactions I witnessed, the more interested I became in a simple question:

How much better can humans be for one another than we usually give ourselves the opportunity to be?

Over time, I needed a word for this particular way of relating.

I call it peership.

Peership is a way for peers to bring what's real and help each other move forward.

A peer group is one place where peership can happen. But peership isn't the group.

It's what happens between the people when they show up with honesty and have each other's back.

What peership makes possible

What has kept me interested in peership all these years isn't simply that people build warmer relationships.

It's what those relationships make possible.

There is an extraordinary sense of relief in finding people who understand your reality. You realize that you are not alone. You can take off the Superman suit. Others are also doing it and look surprisingly similar to you. What a weight off your shoulders! You don't have to have every answer. You don't have to pretend everything is going well.

You also think differently, and better, together.

Other people can see the blind spots you can't see from inside your own situation. They bring experiences you don't have. They challenge assumptions you didn't know you were making. Sometimes they ask one question that changes how you see the entire problem. They look at your world without the emotional stressors and from different angles. How refreshing and powerful!

And when those relationships continue, something else can happen. People lend one another courage. They create momentum. They inspire one another to be bolder, to act more authentically.

There's learning, belonging, growth, and practical help woven together.

The list of benefits is long.

Not every interaction can, or should, produce all of this.

These benefits emerge because people meet for months. But it's also possible to tap into some of the same benefits in a single session.

At the core is the knowledge that human dynamics have far more potential than we typically tap into.

And that realization eventually took my work far beyond peer groups.

Peership became my vantage point

Once you've seen what people can be for one another under the right conditions, you start looking differently at every place we bring humans together.

Suddenly, everywhere I looked, I started seeing opportunities. I began taking what I had learned from peership and wondering which parts of it could improve these other environments.

My goal is not to turn every interaction into a mastermind.

Rather, it is to better understand what helps humans trust, participate, grow together, and contribute to one another.

Lately, I've been using these principles to elevate the quality of events. I help attendees connect more easily, have richer conversations, and develop relationships that can last well beyond the event.

But I've also seen these principles help organizations break down their silos. I've witnessed relationships become a magnet for retention. I've seen them strengthen communities.

I believe peership principles can be of service wherever humans interact with one another. Peership has become the vantage point from which I look at human gatherings.

Wherever people come together, I find myself asking the same question:

How much better could we be for one another if we created the right conditions for it?