Emotional Intelligence: When it ends a discussion (#567)

I recently had a conversation with a retired university administrator about conflicts of interest and conflicts of commitment among senior university leaders.

The discussion was about the ethics of a full-time dean of a School of Veterinary Medicine in a public institution belonging to the board of directors of a large pharmaceutical corporation, particularly as the corporation in question is closely aligned with veterinary medicine.

It was a serious discussion about conflict of interest, conflict of commitment, governance, transparency, and the responsibilities that come with public institutional roles.

At one point, the retired administrator paused and told me, calmly and almost kindly, that clearly, I lacked the emotional intelligence to understand.

In that instant, the discussion shifted.

We were no longer debating policy or ethics.

We were debating me.

I left the meeting unsettled, not because I doubted my position, but because I realized how powerful that phrase has become.

It ended the argument without resolving it.

Recently, I read a study in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association examining emotional intelligence in early-career veterinarians.

The authors found that veterinarians, on average, scored slightly lower than the general population in two areas:

Emotional self-reflection

and

Management of others’ emotions.

The very domains most often invoked in professional disagreements.

But the study did not treat this as a character flaw.

Instead, it pointed to the emotional intensity of veterinary work, the impact of mental health, the role of social support, and the surrounding environment, in shaping how emotional intelligence develops.

That distinction matters.

Because if emotional intelligence is shaped by context,

then invoking it in professional conflict is not a neutral act.

It reflects assumptions about culture, power, and expectations.

In veterinary academia, hierarchy is real. Titles matter. Committees matter. Promotion pathways matter.

So does proximity to decision-making power.

Within such systems, the language of emotional intelligence can take on a secondary function.

When senior figures invoke it, disagreement quietly shifts from institutional questions to interpersonal ones.

The issue stops being whether a policy is sound, whether a decision creates risk, or whether governance standards are being met.

Instead, the focus becomes whether the person raising concerns is sufficiently self-aware, sufficiently diplomatic, sufficiently emotionally skilled.

This is rarely malicious (or is it?).

Often it is simply the language institutions have learned to use.

But the effect can be profound.

The concept meant to foster understanding can become a stabilizer of authority.

Where Do We Go from Here?

If the JAVMA study tells us anything, it is that emotional intelligence is not fixed. It is shaped by training, mentorship, environment, and culture.

That gives us a path forward.

First, mentorship matters.

Young veterinarians and junior faculty do not just need instruction in clinical reasoning or research design. They need mentors who model how disagreement can occur without personal framing, and how institutional debate can remain focused on ideas rather than personalities.

Second, culture matters.

If institutions truly value emotional intelligence, they must create environments where speaking up is not interpreted as emotional deficiency. A culture that rewards calm silence more than thoughtful challenge does not build emotional intelligence. It suppresses it.

Third, training matters.

The JAVMA authors argue that emotional intelligence can be strengthened through structured learning and supportive environments.

But training should not be limited to students and junior clinicians.

Leaders, administrators, and senior faculty shape the emotional climate of institutions.

If emotional intelligence is to be a professional competency, it must be practiced at the top as well as taught at the bottom.

Closing Reflection

I still think about that meeting with the administrator.

Not with resentment, but with curiosity.

Perhaps he genuinely believed he was helping the conversation.

Perhaps he thought he was offering guidance.

But what stayed with me was not the phrase itself.

It was the way it redirected the discussion away from governance and toward personality.

Emotional intelligence is meant to help us understand one another.

Yet sometimes, in institutions, it can quietly do the opposite.

And I have wondered ever since whether the most emotionally intelligent response in that moment would not have been to defend myself, but simply to ask him, gently:

Whether emotional intelligence should close a conversation…

or help us keep having it.

Source

Improved mental health, social support, and time outdoors are associated with higher emotional intelligence in early-career veterinarians: a longitudinal study. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/41564545/

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