BRIAN: Sure. I don’t want to upset Lexi. . . .
Notice that Brian didn’t accept or perhaps even understand Ruth’s description of the problem or purposes at the beginning. He expected to be yelled at for not showing up, and reacted accordingly. But Ruth does a nice job of being both persistent and open to Brian’s response.
Some Specific Kinds of Conversations
In addition to the general advice to open the conversation from the Third Story, we can offer more specific advice on getting started, depending on the nature of the difficult conversation you are anticipating.
Delivering Bad News
As we said in Chapter 2, even delivering bad news should be a conversation, and it’s usually best to put the bad news up front. Don’t try to trick the other person into saying it first, by asking, for example, “So, what do you think of the relationship?” when what you mean is “I want to break up.” And don’t talk for two hours about some of the “issues” you’ve been having with the relationship, if you know that in the end what you want to do is break up.
If you are letting your parents know that you and your family won’t be coming for Christmas, you might say, “We’ve talked a lot about how important it is to you for us to come home for the holidays, and also how difficult it is financially and emotionally for us to do that. I’m calling because Juan and I have talked a lot about it, and have decided that we are going to spend this Christmas here with the kids. It was a really difficult decision, and I feel bad about disappointing you. I wanted to let you know as early as I could, and to talk a little bit, if you’d like, about your reactions and our thinking.”
This doesn’t mean that if you have both good news and bad news that you necessarily have to start with the bad. Rather, be clear that you have both. Indeed, you might discuss where to start with the recipient. Or there may be a logical order to follow that you can share.
Making Requests
Some difficult conversations center on our desire to get something. A common example is asking for a raise. How to begin?
“I Wonder If It Would Make Sense . . . ?” The simple advice about making requests is this: Don’t make it a demand. Instead, invite an exploration of whether a raise is fair, whether it makes sense. That’s not being unassertive, that’s being in better touch with reality. Your boss has information about you and your colleagues that you don’t have. It may sound like nitpicking, but in fact you can’t know that you deserve a raise until you’ve explored the issue with your boss.
At some level you know this, which is one of the big reasons asking for a raise causes anxiety. Try replacing “I think I deserve a raise” with “I’d like to explore whether a raise for me might make sense. From the information I have, I think I deserve one. [Here’s my reasoning.] I wonder how you see it?” This seemingly small change in how you begin should not only reduce stress but also get the conversation off on an even keel. In the end, you may learn that you don’t deserve a raise, or that you deserve an even bigger one than you initially thought you did.
Revisiting Conversations Gone Wrong
Sometimes you know, perhaps from past experience, that the other person is likely to react negatively the minute you raise an especially sensitive topic. Your son doesn’t want to talk about his grades, your wife doesn’t want to talk about the finances, and the minute you raise the question of racism in the department your colleagues roll their eyes. How can you open a more constructive conversation when conversations haven’t gone well in the past and the simple fact of raising the old issue casts you as the nag?
Talk About How to Talk About It. The easiest approach is first to talk about how to talk. Treat “the way things usually go when we try to have this conversation” as the problem, and describe it from the Third Story: “I know that in the past when I’ve raised the question of who’s getting promoted and what role race plays in that process, people have sometimes felt accused or exasperated. I don’t mean to accuse anyone, or to make people feel uncomfortable. At the same time, it feels important to me to discuss. I’m wondering whether we could talk about how we each react to that conversation, and whether there’s a better way we could address these issues?”
Or imagine that you have a friend who you think is so overbooked with commitments that it’s affecting her health. Only she doesn’t see it that way, and whenever you try to bring it up, she gets defensive. Raising it by talking about how you talk might sound like this: “I definitely get the sense that you don’t like discussing your schedule, at least not the way I bring it up. The problem for me is that I feel worried and I would like to share why in a way that’s helpful. I don’t seem to know how to do that, and I was wondering if you had any advice.”
Your friend may still tell you to butt out. But it’s also possible that she’ll engage: “You know what, I more or less agree with you. But so many people are hitting me with this from so many angles right now that what I really need is someone who’ll just be supportive without trying to give me advice. Just listen while I think things through and decide what to cut out. You know what I mean?”
A Map for Going Forward: Third Story, Their Story, Your Story
Beginning from the Third Story gets you safely to the base of the mountain. But then there’s the mountain itself to climb. Once a description of the problem is on the table, and your purposes are clear, then you will need to spend time exploring the Three Conversations from each of your perspectives. The other person will share their views and feelings, and you’ll step back into your story and share yours.
What to Talk About: The Three Conversations
As you share your stories, each of the Three Conversations offers a useful path to explore. You can talk about the past experiences that have led each of you to see the current situation the way you do: “I think the reason I reacted so strongly is that the last time we didn’t receive payment from a vendor, the situation only went from bad to worse.”
You can ask about the other person’s intentions, and share the impact of their behavior on you: “I don’t know whether you realize this or not, but when you didn’t call, I was frantic with worry.” You can empathize with how they might be feeling: “If I were you, I’d be pretty frustrated at this point.” Or share what’s going on with your Identity Conversation: “I think the reason I find this so hard is that being fair is so important to me. It’s upsetting to think that the way I handled this situation might not have been fair to you.” Ultimately, what you choose to share will depend upon the context and the relationship and what feels appropriate and helpful.
* * *
What to Talk About
* * *
Explore where each story comes from
“My reactions here probably have a lot to do with my experiences in a previous job. . . .”
Share the impact on you
“I don’t know whether you intended this, but I felt extremely uncomfortable when . . . .”
Take responsibility for your contribution
“There are a number of things I’ve done that have made this situation harder. . . .”
Describe feelings
“I’m anxious about bringing this up, but at the same time, it’s important to me that we talk about it. . . .”
Reflect on the identity issues
“I think the reason this subject hooks me is that I don’t like thinking of myself as someone who. . . .”
* * *
How to Talk About It: Listening, Expression, and Problem-Solving
The Three Conversations provide a useful map for what to talk about; the next few chapters delve more deeply into how to talk about it.
To be able to see the other person’s story from the inside you’ll need some specific skills in inquiring, listening, and acknowledgment. To share your own story with clarity and power, you need to feel entitled and be precise in speaking only for yourself. Chapters 9 and 10 explore these challenges and offer guidelines for effectiveness. Of course, it will never be as tidy as mo
ving from the Third Story, to Their Story, to Your Story. A real conversation is an interactive process — one where you are constantly going to be listening, sharing your view, asking questions, and negotiating to get the conversation back on track when it starts to go off the rails. Chapter 11 provides guidance on how to manage this interactive process and how to move toward problem-solving. Finally, Chapter 12 returns to our original story of Jack and Michael and offers an extended example illustrating how it all works in practice.
9
Learning: Listen from the Inside Out
Andrew is visiting his Uncle Doug. While Doug is on the phone, Andrew tugs on his uncle’s pant leg, saying, “Uncle Doug, I want to go outside.”
“Not now, Andrew, I’m on the phone,” says Doug.
Andrew persists: “But Uncle Doug, I want to go outside!”
“Not now Andrew!” comes Doug’s response.
“But I want to go out!” Andrew repeats.
After several more rounds, Doug tries a different approach: “Hey, Andrew. You really want to go outside, don’t you?”
“Yes,” says Andrew. Then without further comment, Andrew walks off and begins playing by himself. Andrew, it turns out, just wanted to know that his uncle understood him. He wanted to know he’d been heard.
Andrew’s story demonstrates something that is true for all of us: we have a deep desire to feel heard, and to know that others care enough to listen.
Some people think they are already good listeners. Others know they are not, but don’t much care. If you’re in either group you might be tempted to skip this chapter. Don’t. Listening well is one of the most powerful skills you can bring to a difficult conversation. It helps you understand the other person. And, importantly, it helps them understand you.
Listening Transforms the Conversation
A year ago, Greta’s mother learned she had diabetes and was ordered to follow a strict regimen of medication, diet, and exercise. Greta is concerned that her mother is not following the regimen, but Greta has had little success encouraging her mother to do so. A typical conversation between them goes like this:
GRETA: Mom, you need to stay on the exercise plan. I worry that you don’t understand how important it is.
MOM: Greta, please stop hounding me about this. You don’t understand. I’m doing the best I can.
GRETA: Mom, I do understand. I know that exercising can be difficult, but I want you to stay well. I want you to be around for your grandchildren.
MOM: Greta, I really don’t like these conversations. It’s all very hard for me, the diet, the exercise.
GRETA: I know it’s hard. Exercising is no fun, but the thing is, after a week or two, it gets easier, and you start to look forward to it. We can find you some sort of activity that you’ll really enjoy.
MOM: [choked up] You don’t realize . . . . It’s very stressful. I’m just not going to talk about it anymore. That’s all there is to it!
Not surprisingly, these conversations leave Greta feeling frustrated, powerless, and deeply sad. Greta wonders how she might be more assertive, how she can persuade her mother to change.
But assertiveness isn’t Greta’s problem. What’s missing from her stance is curiosity. In a follow-up conversation, Greta shifts her goal from persuasion to learning. To do this she limits herself to listening, asking questions, and acknowledging her mother’s feelings:
GRETA: I know you don’t like talking about your diabetes and exercising.
MOM: I really don’t. It’s very upsetting to me.
GRETA: When you say it’s upsetting, what do you mean? In what ways?
MOM: Greta, the whole thing! Do you think it’s fun for me?
GRETA: No, Mom, I know it’s really hard. I just don’t know much about what you think about it, what it means to you, what you feel about it.
MOM: I’ll tell you, if your father were alive, it would be different. He was so sweet when I would get sick. Having to follow all these complicated rules, that’s what he would have been good at. He would have taken care of the whole thing. Being sick, it just makes me miss him so much.
GRETA: It sounds like you’ve been feeling really lonely without Dad.
MOM: I have friends, and you’ve been wonderful, but it’s not the same as having your father here to help. I suppose I really do feel lonely, but I hate to talk about that. I don’t want to be a burden on you kids.
GRETA: You feel like if you tell us you’re lonely, it will be a burden? We’ll worry?
MOM: I just don’t want you to have to go through what my mother went through. You know her mother died of diabetes.
GRETA: I didn’t know. Wow.
MOM: It’s scary to be told you have what your grandmother died of. It’s hard for me to accept. I know the medications are better now, which is why I should be following all those rules, but if I follow all those rules, it just makes me feel like some sick old lady.
GRETA: So keeping to the regimen would feel like accepting something that you don’t really totally accept yet?
MOM: It’s irrational. I’m not saying it’s not. [choked up] It’s just very frightening and overwhelming.
GRETA: I know it is, Mom.
MOM: I’ll tell you something else. I don’t even understand what I’m supposed to be doing. The eating, the exercise. If you do one, it affects the other, and you have to keep track. It’s complicated, and the doctor isn’t terribly helpful in explaining it. I don’t know where to begin. Your father would know.
GRETA: Maybe that’s something I could help you with.
MOM: Greta, I don’t want to be a burden.
GRETA: I want to help. It would actually make me feel better. Not so powerless.
MOM: If you could, that would take a big load off my mind. . . .
Greta was astonished and delighted at how much better her conversations became after she began truly listening to her mother. She came to see the issues from her mother’s point of view, how much deeper they ran than she suspected, and how she might be able to help her mother in ways that her mother wanted to be helped. This is perhaps the most obvious benefit of listening: learning about the other person. But there is a second, more surprising benefit as well.
Listening to Them Helps Them Listen to You
Ironically, when Greta shifted away from trying to persuade her mother to exercise and toward simply listening and acknowledging, she ended up achieving the goal that had eluded her up to that point. This is not an accident. One of the most common complaints we hear from people engaged in difficult conversations is that the other person won’t listen. And when we hear that, our standard advice is “You need to spend more time listening to them.”
When the other person is not listening, you may imagine it is because they’re stubborn or don’t understand what you’re trying to say. (If they did, they’d understand why they should listen to it.) So you may try to break through that by repeating, trying new ways to explain yourself, talking more loudly, and so forth.
On the face of it, these would seem to be good strategies. But they’re not. Why? Because in the great majority of cases, the reason the other person is not listening to you is not because they are stubborn, but because they don’t feel heard. In other words, they aren’t listening to you for the same reason you aren’t listening to them: they think you are slow or stubborn. So they repeat themselves, find new ways to say things, talk more loudly, and so forth.
If the block to their listening is that they don’t feel heard, then the way to remove that block is by helping them feel heard — by bending over backwards to listen to what they have to say, and perhaps most important, by demonstrating that you understand what they are saying and how they are feeling.
If you don’t quite believe this, try it. Find the most stubborn person you know, the person who never seems to take in anything you say, the person who repeats himself or herself in every conversation you ever have — and listen to them. Especially, listen for feelings, like frustration or pri
de or fear, and acknowledge those feelings. See whether that person doesn’t become a better listener after all.
The Stance of Curiosity: How to Listen from the Inside Out
What, specifically, does Greta do differently in the second conversation? She asks questions. She paraphrases what her mother says to make sure she understands it, and to make sure her mother understands that Greta understands. Greta is also listening for the feelings that might be behind what her mother is saying, and acknowledges them when she hears them.
Each of these is enormously important to good listening. But none is enough. The single most important thing Greta has done is to shift her internal stance from “I understand” to “Help me understand.” Everything else follows from that.
Forget the Words, Focus on Authenticity
Scores of workshops and books on “active listening” teach you what you should do to be a good listener. Their advice is relatively similar — ask questions, paraphrase back what the other person has said, acknowledge their view, sit attentively and look them in the eye — all good advice. You emerge from these courses eager to try out your new skills, only to become discouraged when your friends or colleagues complain that you sound phony or mechanical. “Don’t use that active listening stuff on me,” they say.
Difficult Conversations: How to Discuss What Matters Most Page 17