The importance of shared spaces – and being heard
Are boards truly making space for new voices – and how do relational aspects help create stronger governance?

The other day I had a chance conversation with another woman which stayed with me. We were talking about someone we both knew – a man who is widely seen as ‘such a nice guy’. And yet her experiences mirrored my own: he was incredibly sexist, without even realising it.
For me, the real impact of that conversation wasn’t about him at all. It was that I felt heard and understood. It reminded me how powerful it is to have people in your space who understand your perspective.
That moment reinforced something that can be overlooked in governance: the importance of relational spaces. While governance is about frameworks, risk registers, capital allocation and oversight, it is also about culture, relationships and having the confidence that your perspective is not an isolated voice around the table.
Being the ‘only one’ in the room – whether the only woman, the only Māori, the only younger director, or the only one asking uncomfortable questions – can be a lonely experience.
My recent Master’s research reinforced this reality. For many directors, especially wāhine Māori and Pacific women, entering governance means not only contributing their skills but also carrying the weight of representation.
This dual responsibility – contributing as an individual while representing a wider community – magnifies the pressure. That invisible load highlights why safe and shared spaces matter: they provide the backing, reassurance and solidarity to keep going.
I often use the example of postnatal playgroups. Why do we have them? Because we’re going through something significant, and it’s important not to feel alone. We want people who understand what we’re experiencing, who can share advice, who can reassure us that we’re not the only ones. Whether it’s dealing with colic or sleepless nights, those shared spaces matter. And governance is no different.
A shared space helps directors find confidence, language and courage to navigate challenges. Being heard validates our experiences and helps us navigate those challenges with greater confidence. In the boardroom, that translates to courage: the courage to ask, “Whose perspective is missing?”, to call out bias or to insist on considering long-term impacts.
When you know others share your perspective or will back you if needed, it becomes easier to raise those questions. This connects to the importance of psychological safety in governance.
The article, Cultivating courage: Psychological safety in the boardroom, highlights that when directors feel able to ask questions without fear of ridicule or dismissal, they bring their full capability to the table. The same principle applies to gender and cultural perspectives: when directors know their voices will be heard and respected, they are not only present, they are also more effective.
Governance capability is never just about technical expertise. While directors absolutely need to understand financials, risk and strategy, effectiveness in the boardroom also relies on the ability to listen, empathise and engage with others. These relational skills shape the culture around the table and determine whether diverse perspectives are genuinely heard.
Good governance isn’t only about the ‘what’ of decision-making, but also the ‘how’ – how directors interact, support and challenge one another to make better collective decisions. This is where governance maturity shows itself: not only in robust systems, but also in respectful dialogue and constructive challenge.
This closely aligns with pillar two of The Four Pillars of Governance Best Practice, which highlights that governance strength lies as much in relationships and culture as in frameworks and oversight.
That’s why Shared Interest Groups such as the Women Directors’ Network, Pasifika Governance and Chapter Zero New Zealand are so important. They create spaces where directors can reflect together, learn from each other and test ideas that may not be well understood in other contexts.
They allow us to move beyond compliance checklists and into shared growth – not just as individuals, but as a profession. Such networks act as incubators of courage and capability, strengthening both directors and the boards they serve.
Just as postnatal groups provide reassurance for new parents, relational governance spaces provide encouragement for directors. They give us the opportunity to uplift each other and to normalise the idea that governance is not just about being technically correct, but about being relationally effective.
For those who have been in governance for some time, that also means making sure we extend the ladder down. When new directors enter the boardroom, do they feel their voice is valued? Are we creating spaces where they can contribute without feeling isolated?
In Why inclusion belongs in the boardroom, I made the point that inclusion isn’t just about who is at the table; it’s about whether they are empowered to contribute meaningfully. Relational spaces – whether formal networks or informal conversations – are critical to creating that empowerment.
As directors, our responsibility extends beyond the mechanics of governance. We must also tend to its culture. That means making room for relational practices: listening deeply, creating safe and brave spaces, and building networks where diverse directors can thrive.
Governance is not only about what we decide; it’s about how we decide and whether people feel heard along the way. And ultimately, that sense of being heard is not a ‘soft’ extra – it is what enables stronger, braver and more effective governance.
Sometimes, the most powerful governance shift happens not in the policy we pass or the risk we mitigate, but in that very moment when someone feels that their voice matters.