A fair way to start the retro

We were all sitting there, a bit tired from the sprint, and the question of who would run the retrospective just hung in the air. No one wanted to volunteer, but no one wanted to be voluntold either. It was that familiar, low-grade tension that can make the whole meeting feel like a chore before it even starts.

The weight of the first decision

I’ve been the one to facilitate the last three times, and I could feel my own reluctance building. It’s not that I mind the work, but it felt uneven, like an unspoken expectation had settled on my shoulders. Someone else mentioned they had a heavy meeting day already, and you could see the slight defensiveness in their posture.We needed a way out that felt impartial, something that would just make the choice for us. Arguing about it or trying to be ‘fair’ through discussion was only going to eat into our time and goodwill. The decision itself was small, but in that moment, it felt disproportionately heavy.

Spinning for a neutral outcome

I pulled up the wheel on the shared screen and added everyone’s name. There was a collective, almost amused, exhale when I hit spin. We watched the cursor blur past our names, this silly little digital roulette deciding our fate.When it landed, there was no grumbling, no side-eye. The person it picked just gave a small, accepting nod. The dynamic in the room shifted instantly from mild apprehension to a ready-to-begin focus. That simple, random action lifted the burden of choice off all of us at once.

The space it created

With that initial friction gone, we could actually get into the real work of the retrospective. The conversation felt more open, maybe because we hadn’t started it with a tiny power struggle.