Difficult Conversations: How to Discuss What Matters Most

by Douglas Stone

  Check Your Understanding

  First, paraphrasing gives you a chance to check your understanding. Difficult conversations are made harder when an important misunderstanding exists, and such misunderstandings are more common than we imagine. Paraphrasing gives the other person the chance to say, “No, that’s not quite what I meant. What I really meant was . . . .”

  Show That You’ve Heard

  Second, paraphrasing lets the other person know they’ve been heard. Usually the reason someone repeats himself or herself in a conversation is because they have no indication that you’ve actually taken in what they’ve said. If you notice that the other person is saying the same thing over and over again, take it as a signal that you need to paraphrase more. Once they feel heard, they are significantly more likely to listen to you. They will no longer be absorbed by their internal voice, and can focus on what you have to say.

  Consider this conversation between Rachel and Ron, a married couple who frequently argue about how strictly to observe Shabbat (the Jewish Sabbath) and its traditional rules restricting travel:

  RON: I told Chris I’d come by tomorrow.

  RACHEL: Ron, tomorrow’s Saturday. You know you can’t drive over to Chris’s on Shabbat. Besides, we’ve got temple in the morning.

  RON: I know, but I told Chris I’d come. It’s the only day he had available.

  RACHEL: Well, I think it’s important that we go to services as a family. Why don’t you go over there on Sunday?

  RON: Chris can’t do it on Sunday — he’s got church and stuff.

  RACHEL: Oh, so his religious practices are more important than ours?

  Neither Rachel nor Ron feels heard in this conversation. If they are going to break this cycle, one of them has to decide to listen and to paraphrase. Let’s assume that Ron decides to try:

  RON: I told Chris I’d come by tomorrow.

  RACHEL: Ron, tomorrow’s Saturday. You know you can’t drive over to Chris’s on Shabbat. Besides, we’ve got temple in the morning.

  RON: It sounds like my making plans is frustrating to you.

  RACHEL: You bet it’s frustrating. I assumed we were going.

  RON: So part of the problem is that I made plans without consulting you?

  RACHEL: No, it’s more that I hate being the one who always nags us to go to temple.

  RON: You feel like I make you the one responsible for our religious life.

  RACHEL: Yeah. I hate feeling like the Shabbat police. Plus, I worry about the message it sends to the kids.

  RON: So you’re afraid that if the kids see me breaking the Sabbath they won’t take it seriously?

  RACHEL: That’s part of it, but it’s a lot of things. It’s lonely when I go by myself. And I want you to go to temple because you want to go, not because I’m making you go.

  RON: I can see how that would be lonely. I do want to go for myself. I think that sometimes when I feel pressured to go, I resist because I don’t like being told what to do. Also, sometimes I feel like I am following the spirit of the law by doing other things.

  RACHEL: [skeptical] Like what?

  RON: Well, like helping out Chris. He’s having a really rough time in his marriage right now, and I wanted to try to spend some time with him. That makes me feel like I’m connecting with people in our community, which is part of what I get out of services. And I’d like the kids to see that caring for people is a big part of what this is all about. Maybe we could talk to them about this.

  RACHEL: Well, that would help. . . .

  RON: But that might not meet your interest in going to services together, or not wanting to carry the weight of responsibility for it in our family. Can you say more about that? . . .

  This time Rachel and Ron are starting to get somewhere in a complex and emotionally charged issue. Ron’s paraphrasing lets Rachel know that he is trying to understand her and that he cares about her feelings. He stops repeating himself, and she starts listening.

  Acknowledge Their Feelings

  Notice that Ron begins paraphrasing by responding not to what Rachel says, but to what she doesn’t say: that she’s frustrated. It is a fundamental rule: feelings crave acknowledgment. Like free radicals, feelings wander around the conversation looking for some acknowledgment to hook onto. They won’t be happy until they get it, and nothing else will do. Unless they get the acknowledgment they need, feelings will cause trouble in the conversation — like a kid desperate for attention, positive or negative. And if you provide that acknowledgment, you give the other person and the relationship something quite precious, something, perhaps, that they can only get from you.

  Answer the Invisible Questions

  Why is acknowledgment so important? Because attached to each expression of feelings is a set of invisible questions: “Are my feelings okay?” “Do you understand them?” “Do you care about them?” “Do you care about me?” These questions are important, and we have trouble moving on in the conversation until we know the answers. Taking time to acknowledge the other person’s feelings says loud and clear that the answer to each question is yes.

  How to Acknowledge

  An acknowledgment is simply this: any indication that you are struggling to understand the emotional content of what the other person is saying. If the other person says to you, “I’m confused by the fact that you lied to me,” you might say any of the following:

  Well, it won’t happen again.

  I should explain that I did not lie.

  It sounds like you’re overreacting a bit here.

  Each of these is an understandable response. The first two respond to the substance of what is being said; the third judges the feeling. But none simply acknowledges the feeling, or responds to the invisible questions. In contrast, any of the following would count as an acknowledgment:

  It sounds like you’re really upset about this.

  This seems really important to you.

  If I were in your shoes I’d probably feel confused too.

  There is no one perfect thing to say. In fact, you may not need to say anything. Sometimes you can acknowledge the other person with a simple nod, or even by the look in your eyes.

  Order Matters: Acknowledge Before Problem-Solving

  Ultimately, of course, people want their problems addressed. Questions like “What are we going to do about this?” “Why did you do what you did?” “How do you explain what happened?” are important. But order matters. Whether they say it or not, often people need some acknowledgment of feelings before they can move on to the “What Happened?” Conversation.

  Too often in difficult conversations and with the best of intentions, we skip right to problem-solving without acknowledging, and the loss is significant. “You’re working too hard,” says your husband. “I never see you anymore.” You realize he’s right, and say, “Well, for the next month, my workload is a lot lighter. I’ll make a real effort to be home every night by six o’clock.” Your husband doesn’t seem satisfied, and you are left wondering what more you could have said.

  But your husband’s complaint is not a math problem. You may think you’ve “solved” the problem, but his invisible questions haven’t been addressed. Your husband wants his feelings acknowledged. “It’s been a tough time, these last few months, hasn’t it?” or “It sounds like you’re feeling abandoned” would be more appropriate. Problem-solving is important, but it has to wait.

  Acknowledging Is Not Agreeing

  The most common concern that arises around the issue of acknowledging is this: What if I don’t agree with what the other person is saying? This is an important concern. It is useful to distinguish here between the Feelings Conversation and the “What Happened?” Conversation. While you may not agree with the substance of what the other person is saying, you can still acknowledge the importance of their feelings.

  For example, a supervisor has transferred one of her subordinates to a different department, and he comes into her office to complain. Notice how the supervisor
acknowledges his feelings without agreeing with his conclusion:

  SUBORDINATE: I have worked so hard for you and now you’re shipping me out. It’s just not fair. I’ve been a loyal team player and now what’s going to happen to me?

  SUPERVISOR: Sounds like you feel really hurt and betrayed. I can see why that would be upsetting.

  SUBORDINATE: So you agree with me that this is unfair?

  SUPERVISOR: What I’m saying is that I can see how upset you’re feeling, and it hurts me to see you so upset. I also think I understand why you think this transfer is unfair, and why it could feel like I’ve betrayed your loyalty. Those factors made the decision to transfer you very difficult for me. I fought hard to make this work. I feel badly about how it’s turned out, but I do think it’s the right decision, and overall I don’t think it’s unfair. We should talk about why.

  It requires thought to make these kinds of distinctions, but it can help immensely. Too often we assume that we either have to agree or disagree with the other person. In fact, we can acknowledge the power and importance of the feelings, while disagreeing with the substance of what is being said.

  A Final Thought: Empathy Is a Journey, Not a Destination

  The deepest form of understanding another person is empathy. Empathy involves a shift from my observing how you seem on the outside, to my imagining what it feels like to be you on the inside, wrapped in your skin with your set of experiences and background, and looking out at the world through your eyes.

  As an empathetic listener, you are on a journey with a direction but no destination. You will never “arrive.” You will never be able to say, “I truly understand you.” We are all too complex for that, and our skills to imagine ourselves into other people’s lives too limited. But in a sense this is good news. Psychologists have found that we are each more interested in knowing that the other person is trying to emphathize with us — that they are willing to struggle to understand how we feel and see how we see — than we are in believing that they have actually accomplished that goal. Good listening, as we’ve said, is profoundly communicative. And struggling to understand communicates the most positive message of all.

  10

  Expression: Speak for Yourself with Clarity and Power

  Beginning from the Third Story is a productive way to open a conversation. Listening to the other person’s story with a real desire to learn what they are thinking and feeling is a crucial next step. But understanding them is rarely the end of the matter; the other person also needs to hear your story. You need to express yourself.

  Orators Need Not Apply

  Expressing yourself well in a difficult conversation has nothing to do with how big your vocabulary is or how eloquent or quick-witted you are. Winston Churchill and Martin Luther King, Jr. were great orators, but in difficult conversations their powers of oration would be of no particular assistance.

  In a difficult conversation your primary task is not to persuade, impress, trick, outwit, convert, or win over the other person. It is to express what you see and why you see it that way, how you feel, and maybe who you are. Self-knowledge and the belief that what you want to share is important will take you significantly further than eloquence and wit.

  In the first part of this chapter we take up the issue of entitlement. To communicate with clarity and power, you must first negotiate yourself into a place where you truly believe that what you want to express is worthy of expression — a belief that your views and feelings are as important as anyone else’s. Period. In the second part of the chapter, we look at how to figure out what you want to express and how you might best express it. We’ll examine several common but significant expression errors, ways to avoid them, and methods for expressing yourself well.

  You’re Entitled (Yes, You)

  John, a second-year law student, was preparing to meet with a well-respected federal judge to discuss several concerns he had about his upcoming clerkship. The judge had a reputation for being a sometimes prickly and argumentative fellow, and John was anxious about losing his courage once he stepped into the judge’s chambers.

  John’s favorite professor offered advice: “Whenever I have felt intimidated or mistreated by someone above me, I remember this — we are all equal in the eyes of God.”

  No More, But No Less

  Regardless of our spiritual orientation, we can all benefit from the message: No matter who we are, no matter how high and mighty we fancy ourselves, or how low and unworthy we may feel, we all deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. My views and feelings are as legitimate, valuable, and important as yours — no more, but no less. For some people, that’s utterly obvious. For others, it comes as important news.

  In an essay in her book, Sister Outsider, poet and activist Audre Lorde pondered the question of expression and entitlement shortly after she learned she had breast cancer:

  I have come to believe . . . . that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood. . . .

  In becoming forcibly and essentially aware of my mortality, and of what I wished and wanted for my life, however short it might be, priorities and omissions became strongly etched in a merciless light, and what I most regretted were my silences. . . . I was going to die, if not sooner then later, whether or not I had ever spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you. . . .

  We can learn to work and speak when we are afraid in the same way we have learned to work and speak when we are tired. For we have been socialized to respect fear more than our own needs for language and definition, and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of that silence will choke us.

  Lorde sees substantial risks in expressing oneself. But she recognizes that the costs of silence are even greater. Recognizing your entitlement can help you find your voice in a conversation and the courage to stand up for yourself when you feel frightened or powerless.

  Beware Self-Sabotage

  Sometimes we can feel trapped between the belief that we should stand up for ourselves and a hidden feeling that we don’t deserve to be heard, that we’re not entitled. In this situation our unconscious mind can offer a devious — and illusory — “solution”: We go through the motions of trying, but incompetently, so that in the end we fail. We wait to speak until there’s not enough time to deal with our concerns. We conveniently forget our materials. All our points suddenly disappear from our head. And voilà! All of our interests are satisfied: we can feel good about trying, and secretly satisfied that we didn’t succeed. This is the art of self-sabotage.

  If this feels like a familiar trick in your repertoire, then you may need to pay more attention to when you are feeling ambivalent. When you sense that vaguely sick or confused feeling, imagine an enormous STOP sign to halt you in your tracks. Before proceeding, you need to engage your Identity Conversation. Why aren’t you entitled? Whose voice from your past do you hear in your head telling you you’re not? What would you need to feel fully entitled to speak up?

  Failure to Express Yourself Keeps You Out of the Relationship

  The ferry tickets to the island of Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts, read like many transportation tickets. Perforated in the middle, the ticket carries a warning that it will be “void if detached.”

  We run the same risks in difficult conversations. When we fail to share what’s most important to us, we detach ourselves from others and damage our relationships.

  Most of us actually prefer being with someone who will speak their mind. Angela broke off her engagement because her fiancé was “too nice.” He never stated a preference, never argued, never raised his voice, never asked for anything. While she appreciated his kindness, she felt something was missing: him.

  If you are sometimes lonely or despondent and never share this with those close to you, then you deny them the chance to come to know a part of you. You presume that they will not respect or like or
admire you as much if they knew the way you really think and feel. But it’s hard to present only this sanitized version of yourself. Often, to hide parts of who we are, we end up hiding all of who we are. And so we present a front that appears lifeless and removed.

  Expressing yourself can be difficult and trying, but it gives the relationship a chance to change and to become stronger. Callie, a Native American woman, did not feel particularly close to her co-workers at a tutoring program for troubled teens. Partly because they were white, she suspected they wouldn’t really understand her; indeed, she often found them to be insensitive.

  But one day she took a risk and shared some stories. She described how she had been called names and teased when she was younger, and how for years she yearned to be “normal.” These revelations significantly changed her relationship with her colleagues, who came to have great admiration for her. Her colleagues, in turn, felt encouraged to share their own stories of feeling left out or awkward. If Callie had not shared her story, she would have deprived her colleagues of the chance to rebut a stereotype she herself harbored — that “white people don’t understand and don’t care.” And she wouldn’t have offered them the opportunity, perhaps for the first time, to understand and care about her.