Who presents first?

We were all sitting there, the agenda open on the screen, and the first item was a presentation. I could feel the usual hesitation in the air, that unspoken game of who would volunteer or who I might have to gently nudge. I didn't want to be the one to assign it. It always felt a bit heavy, like I was picking favorites or setting someone up.

The moment I clicked 'spin'

I pulled up the wheel on the shared screen. I’d typed in everyone’s name from our team earlier, just in case. ‘Alright,’ I said, trying to keep my voice light. ‘Let’s let fate decide who kicks us off.’ I clicked the button, and the wheel started spinning with that soft digital whir.Everyone’s eyes were on it. There was a quiet focus, almost like watching a roulette wheel. For a second, the usual pre-meeting chatter completely died down. It wasn't about avoiding work; it was about removing the weight of the choice from any one person, especially me.

A shared shrug of acceptance

The wheel slowed and landed on Sam. I saw a flicker of surprise on their face, then a quick smile. ‘Looks like you’re up, Sam,’ I said. They just nodded and said, ‘Okay, let me pull up my deck.’ That was it. No groans, no ‘why me?’ looks exchanged across the table.The relief in the room was subtle but real. The decision was made, and it was made by something utterly neutral. It felt fair in a way that my personal choice, however well-intentioned, sometimes doesn't. The tension of that first awkward ‘volunteer?’ moment just evaporated.

Moving forward without the debate

Sam launched into their presentation, and the meeting flowed naturally from there. The energy shifted from deciding who would talk to actually listening to what was being said. We got into the content much faster.

Clarity from a simple spin

After that, the ‘who presents next?’ question never came up again in the same way. We all understood the new, unspoken rule. The wheel had introduced a clarity that my managerial nudging never quite achieved. It was just the way we did it now.